SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE
About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white.
foUowed h them ^ nc * some * n ^ reams assured were one of the m- ' Qf the Spirit that plagued us so,
visible inhabit- r r o '
ants of this Nine fathom deep he had followed us
planet, neither *
departed souls rrom the land of mist and snow.
nor angels t con- cerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Const in tmopoli tan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more
And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot.
��The shipmates in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner in sign whereof the) hang the dead sea-bird round his neck
��The ancient Mariner be- holdeth a sign in the element afar of!
��Ah! well a-day' what evil looks Had I from old and young' Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.
'There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parch'd, and glazed each eye. A weary time' a weary time' How glazed each weary eye ' When, looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky.
At first it seem'd a little speck, And then it seem'd a mist, It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.