| I saw a something in the Sky | |
| No bigger than my fist; | 140 |
| At first it seem'd a little speck | |
| And then it seem'd a mist: | |
| It mov'd and mov'd, and took at last | |
A certain shape, I wist.
| |
| A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! | |
| And still it ner'd and ner'd; | |
| And, an it dodged a water-sprite, | |
It plung'd and tack'd and veer'd.
| |
| With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'd | |
| Ne could we laugh, ne wail: | 150 |
| Then while thro' drouth all dumb they stood | |
| I bit my arm and suck'd the blood | |
And cry'd, A sail! a sail!
| |
| With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'd | |
| Agape they hear'd me call: | |
| Gramercy! they for joy did grin | |
| And all at once their breath drew in | |
As they were drinking all.
| |
| She doth not tack from side to side— | |
| Hither to work us weal | 160 |
| Withouten wind, withouten tide | |
She steddies with upright keel.
| |
| The western wave was all a flame, | |
| The day was well nigh done! | |
| Almost upon the western wave | |
| Rested the broad bright Sun; | |
| When that strange shape drove suddenly | |
Betwixt us and the Sun.
| |
| And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars | |
| (Heaven's mother send us grace) | 170 |
| As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'd | |
With broad and burning face.
| |
| Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) | |
| How fast she neres and neres! | |
| Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun | |
Like restless gossameres?
| |
| Are those her naked ribs, which fleck'd | |
| The sun that did behind them peer? | |
| And are these two all, all the crew, | |
That woman and her fleshless Pheere?
| 180 |
| His bones were black with many a crack, | |
| All black and bare, I ween; | |
| Jet-black and bare, save where with rust | |
| Of mouldy damps and charnel crust | |
They're patch'd with purple and green.
| |
| Her lips are red, her looks are free, | |
| Her locks are yellow as gold: | |
| Her skin is as white as leprosy, | |
| And she is far liker Death than he; | |
Her flesh makes the still air cold.
| 190 |
| The naked Hulk alongside came | |
| And the Twain were playing dice; | |
| "The Game is done! I've won, I've won!" | |
Quoth she, and whistled thrice.
| |
| A gust of wind sterte up behind | |
| And whistled thro' his bones; | |
| Thro' the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth | |
Half-whistles and half-groans.
| |
| With never a whisper in the Sea | |
| Oft darts the Spectre-ship; | 200 |
| While clombe above the Eastern bar | |
| The horned Moon, with one bright Star | |
Almost atween the tips.
| |
| One after one by the horned Moon | |
| (Listen, O Stranger! to me) | |
| Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang | |
And curs'd me with his ee.
| |
| Four times fifty living men, | |
| With never a sigh or groan. | |
| With heavy thump, a lifeless lump | 210 |
They dropp'd down one by one.
| |
| Their souls did from their bodies fly,— | |
| They fled to bliss or woe; | |
| And every soul it pass'd me by, | |
| Like the whiz of my Cross-bow. | |