SIR WALTER SCOTT
Where taming thought to human pride !- The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier; O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, 'Here let their discord with them die. Speak not for those a separate doom Whom fate made Brothers in the tomb; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen? '
��SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 562 The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
PART I
IT is an ancient Mariner, An ancient
And he stoppeth one of three. meeteth three
'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
one
The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide, And I am next of km, The guests are met, the feast is set: May'bt hear the merry din.'
He holds him with his skinny hand, 'There was a ship,' quoth he. 'Hold off 1 unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
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