Lyrical Ballads by William Wordsworth (best books to read for students .txt) 📕

lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved and could not feel my limbs,
I was so light, almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed Ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind,
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life,
And a hundred fire-flags sheen
To and fro they were hurried about;
And to and fro, and in and out
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud;
And the sails did sigh like sedge:
And the rain poured down from one black cloud
The moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag
A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the Ship,
Yet now the Ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes:
It had been strange, even in a dream
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Mariners all ’gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They raised 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 pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.”

“I fear thee, ancient Mariner!”
“Be calm, thou wedding-guest!
’Twas not those souls, that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of Spirits blest:

For when it dawned⁠—they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast:
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the Sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
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.

It ceased: 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
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we silently sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the Ship
Moved 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.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the Ship stood still also.

The sun right up above the mast
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she ’gan stir
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:
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 returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
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 laid full low
The harmless Albatross.

The Spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.

The other was a softer voice,
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,
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:
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast⁠—

If he may know which way to go,
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.’

First Voice

‘But why drives on that ship so fast
Without or wave or wind?’

Second Voice

‘The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high,
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner’s trance is abated.’

“I woke, and we were sailing on
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:
All fixed on me their stony eyes
That in the moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away;
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen⁠—

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round, walks on
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek,
Like a meadow-gale of spring⁠—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed 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?
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!
Or let me sleep alway!’

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And