"THERE passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, 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.

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.

"At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last.

A certain shape, I wist.

At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship; and at a

dear ransom he

"A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

"With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,` We could nor laugh nor wail ;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!

freeth his speech I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

from the bonds

of thirst.

A flash of joy;

And cried, A sail! a sail!

"With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in,

As they were drinking all.

And horror fol

lows. For can it be a ship that

comes onward without wind or tide?

"See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies with upright keel!

"The western wave was all a-flame,

The day was well-nigh done!