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 cheer’d, the harbour clear’d, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the light-house top.
‘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.
‘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 Bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; 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.
‘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 roar’d 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.