O sleep, it is a gentle thing,
Belov'd from pole to pole! 285
To Mary-queen the praise be yeven
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven
That slid into my soul.
Belov'd from pole to pole! 285
To Mary-queen the praise be yeven
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven
That slid into my soul.
The silly buckets on the deck
That had so long remain'd, 290
I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew
And when I awoke it rain'd.
That had so long remain'd, 290
I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew
And when I awoke it rain'd.
My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams 295
And still my body drank.
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams 295
And still my body drank.
I mov'd and could not feel my limbs,
I was so light, almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed Ghost. 300
I was so light, almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed Ghost. 300
The roaring wind! it roar'd far off,
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails
That were so thin and sere.
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air bursts into life, 305
And a hundred fire-flags sheen
To and fro they are hurried about;
And to and fro, and in and out
The stars dance on between.
And a hundred fire-flags sheen
To and fro they are hurried about;
And to and fro, and in and out
The stars dance on between.
[1039]
The coming wind doth roar more loud; 310
The sails do sigh, like sedge:
The rain pours down from one black cloud
And the Moon is at its edge.
The sails do sigh, like sedge:
The rain pours down from one black cloud
And the Moon is at its edge.
Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft,
And the Moon is at its side: 315
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning falls with never a jag
A river steep and wide.
And the Moon is at its side: 315
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning falls with never a jag
A river steep and wide.
The strong wind reach'd the ship: it roar'd
And dropp'd down, like a stone! 320
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.
And dropp'd down, like a stone! 320
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose,
Ne spake, ne mov'd their eyes:
It had been strange, even in a dream 325
To have seen those dead men rise.
Ne spake, ne mov'd their eyes:
It had been strange, even in a dream 325
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steer'd, the ship mov'd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do: 330
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools—
We were a ghastly crew.
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do: 330
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools—
We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brother's son
Stood by me knee to knee:
The body and I pull'd at one rope, 335
But he said nought to me—
And I quak'd to think of my own voice
How frightful it would be!
Stood by me knee to knee:
The body and I pull'd at one rope, 335
But he said nought to me—
And I quak'd to think of my own voice
How frightful it would be!
The day-light dawn'd—they dropp'd their arms,
And cluster'd round the mast: 340
Sweet sounds rose slowly thro' their mouths
And from their bodies pass'd.
And cluster'd round the mast: 340
Sweet sounds rose slowly thro' their mouths
And from their bodies pass'd.
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again 345
Now mix'd, now one by one.
Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again 345
Now mix'd, now one by one.
[1040]
Sometimes a dropping from the sky
I heard the Lavrock sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are
How they seem'd to fill the sea and air 350
With their sweet jargoning.
I heard the Lavrock sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are
How they seem'd to fill the sea and air 350
With their sweet jargoning.
And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song
That makes the heavens be mute. 355
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song
That makes the heavens be mute. 355
It ceas'd: yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night 360
Singeth a quiet tune.
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night 360
Singeth a quiet tune.
Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest!
"Marinere! thou hast thy will:
"For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make
"My body and soul to be still." 365
"Marinere! thou hast thy will:
"For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make
"My body and soul to be still." 365
Never sadder tale was told
To a man of woman born:
Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!
Thou'lt rise to-morrow morn.
To a man of woman born:
Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!
Thou'lt rise to-morrow morn.
Never sadder tale was heard 370
By a man of woman born:
The Marineres all return'd to work
As silent as beforne.
By a man of woman born:
The Marineres all return'd to work
As silent as beforne.
The Marineres all 'gan pull the ropes,
But look at me they n'old: 375
Thought I, I am as thin as air—
They cannot me behold.
But look at me they n'old: 375
Thought I, I am as thin as air—
They cannot me behold.
Till noon we silently sail'd on
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship 380
Mov'd onward from beneath.
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship 380
Mov'd onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep
From the land of mist and snow
The spirit slid: and it was He
That made the Ship to go. 385
The sails at noon left off their tune
And the Ship stood still also.
From the land of mist and snow
The spirit slid: and it was He
That made the Ship to go. 385
The sails at noon left off their tune
And the Ship stood still also.
[1041]
The sun right up above the mast
Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir 390
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir 390
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then, like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound: 395
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell into a swound.
She made a sudden bound: 395
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell into a swound.
How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life return'd, 400
I heard and in my soul discern'd
Two voices in the air,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life return'd, 400
I heard and in my soul discern'd
Two voices in the air,
"Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man?
"By him who died on cross,
"With his cruel bow he lay'd full low 405
"The harmless Albatross.
"By him who died on cross,
"With his cruel bow he lay'd full low 405
"The harmless Albatross.
"The spirit who 'bideth by himself
"In the land of mist and snow,
"He lov'd the bird that lov'd the man
"Who shot him with his bow. 410
"In the land of mist and snow,
"He lov'd the bird that lov'd the man
"Who shot him with his bow. 410
The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he the man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he the man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.
VI.
First Voice.
"But tell me, tell me! speak again, 415
"Thy soft response renewing—
"What makes that ship drive on so fast?
"What is the Ocean doing?
"Thy soft response renewing—
"What makes that ship drive on so fast?
"What is the Ocean doing?
Second Voice.
"Still as a Slave before his Lord,
"The Ocean hath no blast: 420
"His great bright eye most silently
"Up to the moon is cast—
"The Ocean hath no blast: 420
"His great bright eye most silently
"Up to the moon is cast—
[1042]
"If he may know which way to go,
"For she guides him smooth or grim.
"See, brother, see! how graciously 425
"She looketh down on him.
"For she guides him smooth or grim.
"See, brother, see! how graciously 425
"She looketh down on him.
First Voice.
"But why drives on that ship so fast
"Withouten wave or wind?
"Withouten wave or wind?
Second Voice.
"The air is cut away before,
"And closes from behind. 430
"And closes from behind. 430
"Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high,
"Or we shall be belated:
"For slow and slow that ship will go,
"When the Marinere's trance is abated."
"Or we shall be belated:
"For slow and slow that ship will go,
"When the Marinere's trance is abated."
I woke, and we were sailing on 435
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter: 440
All fix'd on me their stony eyes
That in the moon did glitter.
For a charnel-dungeon fitter: 440
All fix'd on me their stony eyes
That in the moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never pass'd away:
I could not draw my een from theirs 445
Ne turn them up to pray.
Had never pass'd away:
I could not draw my een from theirs 445
Ne turn them up to pray.
And in its time the spell was snapt,
And I could move my een:
I look'd far-forth, but little saw
Of what might else be seen. 450
And I could move my een:
I look'd far-forth, but little saw
Of what might else be seen. 450
Like one, that on a lonely road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a frightful fiend 455
Doth close behind him tread.
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a frightful fiend 455
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breath'd a wind on me,
Ne sound ne motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea
In ripple or in shade. 460
Ne sound ne motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea
In ripple or in shade. 460
[1043]
It rais'd my hair, it fann'd my cheek,
Like a meadow-gale of spring—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Like a meadow-gale of spring—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, 465
Yet she sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—
On me alone it blew.
Yet she sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—
On me alone it blew.
O dream of joy! is this indeed
The light-house top I see? 470
Is this the Hill? Is this the Kirk?
Is this mine own countrée?
The light-house top I see? 470
Is this the Hill? Is this the Kirk?
Is this mine own countrée?
We drifted o'er the Harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray—
"O let me be awake, my God! 475
"Or let me sleep alway!"
And I with sobs did pray—
"O let me be awake, my God! 475
"Or let me sleep alway!"
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moon light lay,
And the shadow of the moon. 480
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moon light lay,
And the shadow of the moon. 480
The moonlight bay was white all o'er,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
Like as of torches came.
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
Like as of torches came.
A little distance from the prow 485
Those dark-red shadows were;
But soon I saw that my own flesh
Was red as in a glare.
Those dark-red shadows were;
But soon I saw that my own flesh
Was red as in a glare.
I turn'd my head in fear and dread,
And by the holy rood, 490
The bodies had advanc'd, and now
Before the mast they stood.
And by the holy rood, 490
The bodies had advanc'd, and now
Before the mast they stood.
They lifted up their stiff right arms,
They held them strait and tight;
And each right-arm burnt like a torch, 495
A torch that's borne upright.
Their stony eye-balls glitter'd on
In the red and smoky light.
They held them strait and tight;
And each right-arm burnt like a torch, 495
A torch that's borne upright.
Their stony eye-balls glitter'd on
In the red and smoky light.
[1044]
I pray'd and turn'd my head away
Forth looking as before. 500
There was no breeze upon the bay,
No wave against the shore.
Forth looking as before. 500
There was no breeze upon the bay,
No wave against the shore.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steep'd in silentness 505
The steady weathercock.
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steep'd in silentness 505
The steady weathercock.
And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came. 510
Till rising from the same
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came. 510
A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck—
O Christ! what saw I there?
Those crimson shadows were:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck—
O Christ! what saw I there?
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat; 515
And by the Holy rood
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
And by the Holy rood
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand:
It was a heavenly sight: 520
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light:
It was a heavenly sight: 520
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light:
This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand,
No voice did they impart—
No voice; but O! the silence sank, 525
Like music on my heart.
No voice did they impart—
No voice; but O! the silence sank, 525
Like music on my heart.
Eftsones I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the pilot's cheer:
My head was turn'd perforce away
And I saw a boat appear. 530
I heard the pilot's cheer:
My head was turn'd perforce away
And I saw a boat appear. 530
Then vanish'd all the lovely lights;
The bodies rose anew:
With silent pace, each to his place,
Came back the ghastly crew.
The wind, that shade nor motion made, 535
On me alone it blew.
The bodies rose anew:
With silent pace, each to his place,
Came back the ghastly crew.
The wind, that shade nor motion made, 535
On me alone it blew.
[1045]
The pilot, and the pilot's boy
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy,
The dead men could not blast. 540
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy,
The dead men could not blast. 540
I saw a third—I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away 545
The Albatross's blood.
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away 545
The Albatross's blood.
VII.
This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the Sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with Marineres 550
That come from a far Contrée.
Which slopes down to the Sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with Marineres 550
That come from a far Contrée.
He kneels at morn and noon and eve—
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss, that wholly hides
The rotted old Oak-stump. 555
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss, that wholly hides
The rotted old Oak-stump. 555
The Skiff-boat ne'rd: I heard them talk,
"Why, this is strange, I trow!
"Where are those lights so many and fair
"That signal made but now?
"Why, this is strange, I trow!
"Where are those lights so many and fair
"That signal made but now?
"Strange, by my faith! the Hermit said— 560
"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 565
"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 565
"The skeletons of leaves that lag
"My forest-brook along:
"When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
"And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below
"That eats the she-wolfs young. 570
"My forest-brook along:
"When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
"And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below
"That eats the she-wolfs young. 570
"Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look—
(The Pilot made reply)
"I am afear'd—"Push on, push on!
"Said the Hermit cheerily.
(The Pilot made reply)
"I am afear'd—"Push on, push on!
"Said the Hermit cheerily.
[1046]
The Boat came closer to the Ship, 575
But I ne spake ne stirr'd!
The Boat came close beneath the Ship,
And strait a sound was heard!
But I ne spake ne stirr'd!
The Boat came close beneath the Ship,
And strait a sound was heard!
Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread: 580
It reach'd the Ship, it split the bay;
The Ship went down like lead.
Still louder and more dread: 580
It reach'd the Ship, it split the bay;
The Ship went down like lead.
Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote:
Like one that had been seven days drown'd 585
My body lay afloat:
But, swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
Which sky and ocean smote:
Like one that had been seven days drown'd 585
My body lay afloat:
But, swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship,
The boat spun round and round: 590
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.
The boat spun round and round: 590
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.
I mov'd my lips: the Pilot shriek'd
And fell down in a fit.
The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes 595
And pray'd where he did sit.
And fell down in a fit.
The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes 595
And pray'd where he did sit.
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro, 600
"Ha! ha!" quoth he—"full plain I see,
"The devil knows how to row."
Who now doth crazy go,
Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro, 600
"Ha! ha!" quoth he—"full plain I see,
"The devil knows how to row."
And now all in mine own Countrée
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, 605
And scarcely he could stand.
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, 605
And scarcely he could stand.
"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy Man!
The Hermit cross'd his brow—
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say
"What manner man art thou?" 610
The Hermit cross'd his brow—
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say
"What manner man art thou?" 610
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd
With a woeful agony,
Which forc'd me to begin my tale
And then it left me free.
With a woeful agony,
Which forc'd me to begin my tale
And then it left me free.
[1047]
Since then at an uncertain hour, 615
Now oftimes and now fewer,
That anguish comes and makes me tell
My ghastly aventure.
Now oftimes and now fewer,
That anguish comes and makes me tell
My ghastly aventure.
I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech; 620
The moment that his face I see
I know the man that must hear me;
To him my tale I teach.
I have strange power of speech; 620
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; 625
But in the Garden-bower the Bride
And Bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little Vesper-bell
Which biddeth me to prayer.
The Wedding-guests are there; 625
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 630
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter than the Marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me 635
To walk together to the Kirk
With a goodly company.
'Tis sweeter far to me 635
To walk together to the Kirk
With a goodly company.
To walk together to the Kirk
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends, 640
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And Youths, and Maidens gay.
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends, 640
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And Youths, and Maidens gay.
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding-guest!
He prayeth well who loveth well, 645
Both man and bird and beast.
To thee, thou wedding-guest!
He prayeth well who loveth well, 645
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best who loveth best,
All things both great and small:
For the dear God, who loveth us,
He made and loveth all. 650
All things both great and small:
For the dear God, who loveth us,
He made and loveth all. 650
The Marinere, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the wedding-guest
Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the wedding-guest
Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.
[1048]
He went, like one that hath been stunn'd 655
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn.
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn.
FOOTNOTES:
[1030:1] First published in Lyrical Ballads, 1798, pp. [1]-27; republished in Lyrical Ballads, 1800, vol. i; Lyrical Ballads, 1802, vol. i; Lyrical Ballads, 1805, vol. i; reprinted in The Poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Appendix, pp. 404-29, London: E. Moxon, Son, and Company, [1870]; reprinted in Lyrical Ballads edition of 1798, edited by Edward Dowden, LL D., 1890, in P. W., 1893, Appendix E, pp. 512-20, and in Lyrical Ballads . . . 1798, edited by Thomas Hutchinson, 1898. The text of the present issue has been collated with that of an early copy of Lyrical Ballads, 1798 (containing Lewti, pp. 63-7), presented by Coleridge to his sister-in-law, Miss Martha Fricker. The lines were not numbered in L. B., 1798.
LINENOTES:
[63]
And an] As if MS. corr. by S. T. C.
[75]
Corrected in the Errata to fog-smoke white.
[83]
weft [S. T. C.]
[179]
For "those" read "these" Errata, p. [221], L. B. 1798.
After 338 * * * * * * MS., L. B. 1798.
F
THE RAVEN
[As printed in the Morning Post, March 10, 1798.]
[Vide ante, p. 169.]
Under the arms of a goodly oak-tree,
There was of Swine a large company.
They were making a rude repast,
Grunting as they crunch'd the mast.
Then they trotted away: for the wind blew high— 5
One acorn they left, ne more mote you spy.
Next came a Raven, who lik'd not such folly;
He belong'd, I believe, to the witch Melancholy!
Blacker was he than the blackest jet;
Flew low in the rain; his feathers were wet. 10
He pick'd up the acorn and buried it strait,
By the side of a river both deep and great.
Where then did the Raven go?
He went high and low—
O'er hill, o'er dale did the black Raven go! 15
Many Autumns, many Springs;
Travell'd he with wand'ring wings;
Many Summers, many Winters—
I can't tell half his adventures.
At length he return'd, and with him a she; 20
And the acorn was grown a large oak-tree.
They built them a nest in the topmost bough,
And young ones they had, and were jolly enow.
But soon came a Woodman in leathern guise:
His brow like a pent-house hung over his eyes. 25
He'd an axe in his hand, and he nothing spoke,
But with many a hem! and a sturdy stroke,
At last he brought down the poor Raven's own oak.
His young ones were kill'd, for they could not depart,
And his wife she did die of a broken heart! 30
[1049]The branches from off it the Woodman did sever!
And they floated it down on the course of the River:
They saw'd it to planks, and it's rind they did strip,
And with this tree and others they built up a ship.
The ship, it was launch'd; but in sight of the land, 35
A tempest arose which no ship could withstand.
It bulg'd on a rock, and the waves rush'd in fast—
The auld Raven flew round and round, and caw'd to the blast.
He heard the sea-shriek of their perishing souls—
They be sunk! O'er the top-mast the mad water rolls. 40
The Raven was glad that such fate they did meet,
They had taken his all, and Revenge was Sweet!
There was of Swine a large company.
They were making a rude repast,
Grunting as they crunch'd the mast.
Then they trotted away: for the wind blew high— 5
One acorn they left, ne more mote you spy.
Next came a Raven, who lik'd not such folly;
He belong'd, I believe, to the witch Melancholy!
Blacker was he than the blackest jet;
Flew low in the rain; his feathers were wet. 10
He pick'd up the acorn and buried it strait,
By the side of a river both deep and great.
Where then did the Raven go?
He went high and low—
O'er hill, o'er dale did the black Raven go! 15
Many Autumns, many Springs;
Travell'd he with wand'ring wings;
Many Summers, many Winters—
I can't tell half his adventures.
At length he return'd, and with him a she; 20
And the acorn was grown a large oak-tree.
They built them a nest in the topmost bough,
And young ones they had, and were jolly enow.
But soon came a Woodman in leathern guise:
His brow like a pent-house hung over his eyes. 25
He'd an axe in his hand, and he nothing spoke,
But with many a hem! and a sturdy stroke,
At last he brought down the poor Raven's own oak.
His young ones were kill'd, for they could not depart,
And his wife she did die of a broken heart! 30
[1049]The branches from off it the Woodman did sever!
And they floated it down on the course of the River:
They saw'd it to planks, and it's rind they did strip,
And with this tree and others they built up a ship.
The ship, it was launch'd; but in sight of the land, 35
A tempest arose which no ship could withstand.
It bulg'd on a rock, and the waves rush'd in fast—
The auld Raven flew round and round, and caw'd to the blast.
He heard the sea-shriek of their perishing souls—
They be sunk! O'er the top-mast the mad water rolls. 40
The Raven was glad that such fate they did meet,
They had taken his all, and Revenge was Sweet!
G
LEWTI; OR THE CIRCASSIAN'S LOVE-CHANT[1049:1]
[Vide ante, p. 253.]
(1)
[Add. MSS. 27,902.]
High o'er the silver rocks I roved
To forget the form I loved
In hopes fond fancy would be kind
And steal my Mary from my mind
T'was twilight and the lunar beam 5
Sailed slowly o'er Tamaha's stream
As down its sides the water strayed
Bright on a rock the moonbeam playe[d]
It shone, half-sheltered from the view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew 10
True, true to love but false to rest,
So fancy whispered to my breast,
So shines her forehead smooth and fair
Gleaming through her sable hair
I turned to heaven—but viewed on high 15
The languid lustre of her eye
[1050] The moons mild radiant edge I saw
Peeping a black-arched cloud below
Nor yet its faint and paly beam
Could tinge its skirt with yellow gleam 20
I saw the white waves o'er and o'er
Break against a curved shore
Now disappearing from the sight
Now twinkling regular and white
Her mouth, her smiling mouth can shew 25
As white and regular a row
Haste Haste, some God indulgent prove
And bear me, bear me to my love
Then might—for yet the sultry hour
Glows from the sun's oppressive power 30
Then might her bosom soft and white
Heave upon my swimming sight
As yon two swans together heave
Upon the gently-swelling wave
Haste—haste some God indulgent prove 35
And bear—oh bear me to my love.
To forget the form I loved
In hopes fond fancy would be kind
And steal my Mary from my mind
T'was twilight and the lunar beam 5
Sailed slowly o'er Tamaha's stream
As down its sides the water strayed
Bright on a rock the moonbeam playe[d]
It shone, half-sheltered from the view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew 10
True, true to love but false to rest,
So fancy whispered to my breast,
So shines her forehead smooth and fair
Gleaming through her sable hair
I turned to heaven—but viewed on high 15
The languid lustre of her eye
[1050] The moons mild radiant edge I saw
Peeping a black-arched cloud below
Nor yet its faint and paly beam
Could tinge its skirt with yellow gleam 20
I saw the white waves o'er and o'er
Break against a curved shore
Now disappearing from the sight
Now twinkling regular and white
Her mouth, her smiling mouth can shew 25
As white and regular a row
Haste Haste, some God indulgent prove
And bear me, bear me to my love
Then might—for yet the sultry hour
Glows from the sun's oppressive power 30
Then might her bosom soft and white
Heave upon my swimming sight
As yon two swans together heave
Upon the gently-swelling wave
Haste—haste some God indulgent prove 35
And bear—oh bear me to my love.
(2)
[Add. MSS. 35,343.]
| THE | CIRCASSIAN'S | LOVE-CHAUNT |
High o'er the rocks at night I rov'd
silver
To forget the form I lov'd.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Cora
Depart! for Lewti is not kind!
Cora
Bright was the Moon: the Moon's bright beam 5
Speckled with many a moving shade,
Danc'd upon Tamaha's stream;
But brightlier on the Rock it play'd,
The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view
By pendent boughs of tressy Yew! 10
True to Love, but false to Rest,
My fancy whisper'd in my breast—
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair
Gleaming thro' her sable hair,
[1051] Image of Lewti! from my mind 15
Cora
Depart! for Lewti is not kind.
Cora
To forget the form I lov'd.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart! for Lewti is not kind!
Bright was the Moon: the Moon's bright beam 5
Speckled with many a moving shade,
Danc'd upon Tamaha's stream;
But brightlier on the Rock it play'd,
The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view
By pendent boughs of tressy Yew! 10
True to Love, but false to Rest,
My fancy whisper'd in my breast—
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair
Gleaming thro' her sable hair,
[1051] Image of Lewti! from my mind 15
Depart! for Lewti is not kind.
I saw a cloud of whitest hue;
Onward to the Moon it pass'd!
Still brighter and more bright it grew
With floating colours not a few, 20
Till it reach'd the Moon at last.
Onward to the Moon it pass'd!
Still brighter and more bright it grew
With floating colours not a few, 20
Till it reach'd the Moon at last.
LEWTI; OR THE CIRCASSIAN'S LOVE-CHANT
(3)
[Add. MSS. 35,343, f. 3 recto.]
High o'er the rocks at night I rov'd
To forget the form I lov'd.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart: for Lewti is not kind. 25
To forget the form I lov'd.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart: for Lewti is not kind. 25
Bright was the Moon: the Moon's bright bea[m]
Speckled with many a moving shade,
Danc'd upon Tamaha's stream;
But brightlier on the Rock it play'd,
The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view 30
By pendent boughs of tressy Yew!
True to Love, but false to Rest,
My fancy whisper'd in my breast—
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair
Gleaming thro' her sable hair! 35
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart—for Lewti is not kind.
Speckled with many a moving shade,
Danc'd upon Tamaha's stream;
But brightlier on the Rock it play'd,
The Rock, half-shelter'd from my view 30
By pendent boughs of tressy Yew!
True to Love, but false to Rest,
My fancy whisper'd in my breast—
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair
Gleaming thro' her sable hair! 35
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart—for Lewti is not kind.
I saw a Cloud of whitest hue—
Onward to the Moon it pass'd.
Still brighter and more bright it grew 40
With floating colours not a few,
Till it reach'd the Moon at last:
Then the Cloud was wholly bright
With a rich and amber light!
deep
And so with many a hope I seek, 45
And so with joy I find my Lewti:
And even so my pale wan cheek
Drinks in as deep a flush of Beauty
[1052] Image of Lewti! leave my mind
If Lewti never will be kind! 50
Onward to the Moon it pass'd.
Still brighter and more bright it grew 40
With floating colours not a few,
Till it reach'd the Moon at last:
Then the Cloud was wholly bright
With a rich and amber light!
And so with many a hope I seek, 45
And so with joy I find my Lewti:
And even so my pale wan cheek
Drinks in as deep a flush of Beauty
[1052] Image of Lewti! leave my mind
If Lewti never will be kind! 50
Away the little Cloud, away.
Away it goes—away so soon
alone
Alas! it has no power to stay:
It's hues are dim, it's hues are grey
Away it passes from the Moon. 55
And now tis whiter than before—
As white as my poor cheek will be,
When, Lewti! on my couch I lie
A dying Man for Love of thee!
Thou living Image
Image of Lewti in my mind, 60
Methinks thou lookest notkin unkind!
Away it goes—away so soon
Alas! it has no power to stay:
It's hues are dim, it's hues are grey
Away it passes from the Moon. 55
And now tis whiter than before—
As white as my poor cheek will be,
When, Lewti! on my couch I lie
A dying Man for Love of thee!
Image of Lewti in my mind, 60
Methinks thou lookest not
FOOTNOTES:
[1049:1] The first ten lines of MS. version (1) were first published in Note 44 of P. W., 1893, p. 518, and the MS. as a whole is included in Coleridge's Poems, A Facsimile Reproduction of The Proofs and MSS., &c., 1899, pp. 132-4. MSS. (2) and (3) are now printed for the first time.
H
INTRODUCTION TO THE TALE OF THE DARK LADIE[1052:1]
[Vide ante, p. 330.]
To the Editor of The Morning Post.
Sir,
The following Poem is the Introduction to a somewhat longer one, for which I shall solicit insertion on your next open day. The use of the Old Ballad word, Ladie, for Lady, is the only piece of obsoleteness in it; and as it is professedly a tale of ancient times, I trust, that 'the affectionate lovers of venerable antiquity' (as Camden says) will grant me their pardon, and perhaps may be induced to admit a force and propriety in it. A heavier objection may be adduced against the Author, that in these times of fear and expectation, when novelties explode around us in all directions, he should presume to offer to the public a silly tale of old fashioned love; and, five years ago, I own, I should have allowed and felt the force of this objection. But, alas! explosion has succeeded explosion so rapidly, that novelty itself ceases to appear new; and it is possible that now, even a simple story, wholly unspired [? inspired] with politics or personality, may find some attention amid the hubbub of Revolutions, as to those who have resided a long time by the falls of Niagara, the lowest whispering becomes distinctly audible.
1
O leave the Lily on its stem;
O leave the Rose upon the spray;
O leave the Elder-bloom, fair Maids!
And listen to my lay.
O leave the Rose upon the spray;
O leave the Elder-bloom, fair Maids!
And listen to my lay.
2
A Cypress and a Myrtle bough, 5
This morn around my harp you twin'd,
Because it fashion'd mournfully
Its murmurs in the wind.
This morn around my harp you twin'd,
Because it fashion'd mournfully
Its murmurs in the wind.
3
And now a Tale of Love and Woe,
A woeful Tale of Love I sing: 10
Hark, gentle Maidens, hark! it sighs
And trembles on the string.
A woeful Tale of Love I sing: 10
Hark, gentle Maidens, hark! it sighs
And trembles on the string.
4
But most, my own dear Genevieve!
It sighs and trembles most for thee!
O come and hear the cruel wrongs 15
Befel the dark Ladie!
It sighs and trembles most for thee!
O come and hear the cruel wrongs 15
Befel the dark Ladie!