Away he sailed—and the lightning came,
And streamed from the top of his mast;
Away he sailed, and the thunder came,
And spoke from the depth of the blast:
"O God!" he said, and his tresses so hoar
Shone bright i' the flame, as he shot from the shore.
Away he sailed—and the green isles smiled,
And the sea-birds sang around:
He sought to land—and down sank the shores
With a loud and a murmuring sound;
And where the greenwood and the sweet sod should be
There tumbled a wild and a shoreless sea.
Away he sailed—and the moon looked out,
With one large star by her side—
Down shot the star, and up sprang the sea-fowl
With a shriek—and roared the tide!
The bark, with a leap, seemed the stars to sweep,
And then to dive in the hollowest deep.
Criffel's green mountain towered on his right—
Upon his left, Saint Bees—
Behind, Caerlaverock's charmed ground—
Before, the wild wide seas:
And there a witch-fire, broad and bright,
Shed far a wild unworldly light!
A lady sat high on Saint Bees' Head,
With her pale cheek on her hand;
She gazed forth on the troubled sea,
And on the troubled land;
She lifted her hands to heaven—her eyes
Rained down bright tears—still the shallop flies.
The shallop shoulders the surge and flies,
But at that lady's prayer
The charmed wind fell mute, nor stirred
The rings of her golden hair:
And over the sea there passed a breath
From heaven—the sea lay mute as death.
And the shallop sunders the gentle flood,
No breathing wind is near:
And the shallop sunders the gentle flood,
And the flood lies still with fear—
And the ocean, the earth, and the heaven smile sweet
While the old mariner chanted this maritime rhyme, he looked upon me from time to time, and perhaps felt pleased in exciting the interest of a youthful mind, and obtaining a regard which had been but sparingly bestowed
