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THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.

141

And the whole earth would henceforth be
A wider prison unto me:
No child, no sire, no kin had I,
No partner in my misery ;
I thought of this, and I was glad,
For thought of them had made me mad;
But I was curious to ascend
To my barred windows, and to bend
Once more upon the mountains high
The quiet of a loving eye.

XIII.

I saw them, - and they were the same,
They were not changed like me in frame;
I saw their thousand years of snow
On high, — their wide long lake below,
And the blue Rhone in fullest flow;
I heard the torrents leap and gush
O’er channelled rock and broken bush;
I saw the white-walled distant town,
And whiter sails go skimming down ;
And then there was a little isle,
Which in my very face did smile,

The only one in view ;
A small green isle, - it seemed no more,-
Scarce broader than my dungeon floor ;
But in it there were three tall trees,
And o'er it blew the mountain breeze,
And by it there were waters flowing,
And on it there were young flowers growing

Of gentle breath and hue.
The fish swam by the castle wall,
And they seemed joyous each and all ;
The eagle rode the rising blast, -
Methought he never flew so fast

As then to me he seemed to fly,
And then new tears came in my eye,
And I felt troubled, and would fain
I had not left my recent chain ;
And when I did descend again,
The darkness of my dim abode
Fell on me as a heavy load ;
It was as is a new-dug grave
Closing o'er one we sought to save,
And yet my glance, too much oppressed,
Had almost need of such a rest.

XIV. It might be months, or years, or days,

I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise,

And clear them of their dreary mote; At last men came to set me free,

I asked not why, and recked not where, It was at length the same to me Fettered or fetterless to be,

I learned to love despair. And thus when they appeared at last, And all my bonds aside were cast, These heavy walls to me had grown A hermitage, –and all my own! And half I felt as they were come To tear me from a second home : With spiders I had friendship made, And watched them in their sullen trade, Had seen the mice by moonlight play, And why should I feel less than they? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill, – yet, strange to tell, In quiet we had learned to dwell;

THE ANCIENT MARINER.

143

My very chains and I grew friends,
So much a long communion tends
To make us what we are: - even I
Regained my freedom with a sigh.

SONNET. – J. Blanco White.

MYSTERIOUS night! when our first parent knew

Thee, from report divine, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,

This glorious canopy of light and blue ?
Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew,

Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperus with the host of heaven came,

And, lo! creation widened in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed

Within thy beams, O sun ? or who could find,
Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed,

That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind?
Why do we, then, shun death with anxious strife ?

If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?

THE ANCIENT MARINER. – Coleridge.

PART I.

It is an ancient mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
“ By thy long gray beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

An ancient mariner meeteth three gal. lanta bidden to a wedding-feast, and detain. eth one,

“ The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin ;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din.”

He holds him with his skinny hand,
“ There was a ship,” quoth he.
“ Hold off! unhand me, graybeard loon!”
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

is speli. bound by the eye of the old sea. faring man, and con. strained to hear his tale.

The wed. He holds him with his glittering eye, ding-guest

The wedding-guest stood still,

And listens like a three-years' child : n, The mariner hath his will.

The wedding-guest sat on a stone :
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed mariner.
The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The mari. ner tells bow the ship Bailed southward, with a good wind and fair weath. er, till it reached the

The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he ;
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

line.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon-
The wedding-guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The wed.
ding-guest
ding guest The bride hath paced into the hall,
heareth the Red as a rose is she ;
bridal mu-

THE ANCIENT MARINER.

145

sic; but the mariner continueth his tale.

Nodding their heads, before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.
The wedding-guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed mariner.
And now the storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong ;
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

The ship drawn by a storm to. ward the south pole.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold;
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen;
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken:
The ice was all between.

The land of ice and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around :
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound.

At length did cross an albatross,
Thorough the fog it came :

Till a great sea-bird, called the albatross,

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