night
sgeth a quiet tune
till noon we quietly sailed on,
yet never a breeze did breathe :
slowly and soothly went the ship,
oved onward fro beneath
under the keel ne fatho deep,
fro the nd of ist and snow,
the spirit slid : and it was he
that ade the ship to go
the sails at noon left off their tune,
and the ship stood still also
the sun, right up above the ast,
had fixed her to the ocean :
but a ute she ≈039;gan stir,
with a short uneasy otion—
backwards and forwards half her length,
with a short uneasy otion
then like a pag horse let go,
she ade a sudden bound :
it flung the blood to y head,
and i fell down a swound
how long that sa fit i y,
i have not to decre ;
but ere y livg life returned,
i heard, and y soul discerned
o voices the air
“is it he ?” quoth one, “is this the an ?”
by hi who died on cross,
with his cruel bow he id full low
the harless albatross
“the spirit who bideth by hiself
the nd of ist and snow,
he loved the bird that loved the an
who shot hi with his bow”
the other was a softer voice,
as soft as honey-dew :
quoth he,“the an hath penance done,
and penance ore will do”
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