The Sun came up upon the right, | |
Out of the Sea came he; | |
And broad as a weft upon the left | |
Went down into the Sea.
| |
And the good south wind still blew behind, | |
But no sweet Bird did follow | |
Ne any day for food or play | |
Came to the Marinere's hollo!
| |
And I had done an hellish thing | |
And it would work 'em woe; | 90 |
For all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird | |
That made the Breeze to blow.
| |
Ne dim ne red, like God's own head, | |
The glorious Sun uprist: | |
Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird | |
That brought the fog and mist. | |
T'was right, said they, such birds to slay | |
That bring the fog and mist.
| |
The breezes blew, the white foam flew, | |
The furrow follow'd free: | 100 |
We were the first that ever burst | |
Into that silent Sea.
| |
Down dropt the breeze, the Sails dropt down, | |
'Twas sad as sad could be | |
And we did speak only to break | |
The silence of the Sea.
| |
All in a hot and copper sky | |
The bloody sun at noon, | |
Right up above the mast did stand, | |
No bigger than the moon.
| 110 |
Day after day, day after day, | |
We stuck, ne breath ne motion, | |
As idle as a painted Ship | |
Upon a painted Ocean.
| |
Water, water, every where, | |
And all the boards did shrink; | |
Water, water, every where, | |
Ne any drop to drink.
| |
The very deeps did rot: O Christ! | |
That ever this should be! | 120 |
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs | |
Upon the slimy Sea.
| |
About, about, in reel and rout | |
The Death-fires danc'd at night; | |
The water, like a witch's oils, | |
Burnt green and blue and white.
| |
And some in dreams assured were | |
Of the Spirit that plagued us so: | |
Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us | |
From the Land of Mist and Snow.
| 130 |
And every tongue thro' utter drouth | |
Was wither'd at the root; | |
We could not speak no more than if | |
We had been choked with soot.
| |
Ah wel-a-day! what evil looks | |
Had I from old and young; | |
Instead of the Cross the Albatross | |
About my neck was hung. | |