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It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship.And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peer'd,
With broad and burning face.
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres!
And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting Sun.Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
The Spectre-Woman and her Death-mate, and no other on board the skeleton ship.Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Like vessel, like crew!Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mair Life-in-death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Death and Life-in-Death have diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) winneth the ancient Mariner.The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
