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'He kneels at morn, and noon, and eveHe hath a cushion plump : It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak stump. ‘The skiff-boat neard : I heard them talk, “Why, this is strange, I trow ! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now ?” O“Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said, “And they answer'd not our cheer ! The planks look warp'd ! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere ! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were
Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish look”.
am a-feard” - Push on, push on!”
Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
' I took the oars : the Pilot's boy,
all in my own countree,
66 O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man !” The Hermit crossed his brow.
Say quick," quoth he, “I bid thee sayWhat manner of man art thou ?"
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale ; And then it left me free.
'Since then, at an uncertain hour,
pass, like night, from land to land ; I have strange power of speech ; The moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me : To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door ! The wedding-guests are there : But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are : And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer ! 'O Wedding-Guest ! this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea : So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
"He prayeth best, who lovest best
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
He went like one that hath been stunned,
By good angels tenanted,
Radiant palace, reared its head.
It stood there;
Over fabric half so fair !
Banners-yellow, glorious, golden
On its roof did Hoat and flow (This, all this, was in the olden
Time, long ago);
In that sweet day,
A winged odour went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows saw
To a lute's well-tunèd law,
The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace-door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
him desolate ;)
That blushed and bloomed,
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers now within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
a discordant melody,
Through the pale door,
Confusion on thy banners wait,
They mock the air with idle state.
Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay,
He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance : "To arms !' cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quivering