THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE-3

类别:文学名著 作者:威廉·华兹华斯塞缪尔·泰勒·柯尔 本章:THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE-3

    III.

    I sahe Sky

    No bigger t;

    At ?rst it seemd a little speck

    And t seemd a mist:

    It movd and movd, and took at last

    A certain s.

    A speck, a mist, a s!

    And still it nerd and nerd;

    And, an it dodgd a er-sprite,

    It plungd and tackd and veerd.

    it unslackd, h black lips bakd

    Ne could we laugh, ne wail:

    tood

    I bit my arm and suckd the blood

    And cryd, A sail! a sail!

    it unslackd, h black lips bakd

    Agape they heard me call:

    Gramercy! they for joy did grin

    And all at once th drew in

    As they were drinking all.

    S tack from side to side--

    o work us weal

    iten en tide

    Seddies  keel.

    tern wave was all a ?ame,

    the day was well nigh done!

    Almost upon tern wave

    Rested t Sun;

    strange shape drove suddenly

    Bet us and the Sun.

    And strait th bars

    (her send us grace)

    As if te he peerd

    ith broad and burning face.

    Alas! (t I, and my  beat loud)

    she neres and neres!

    Are t glance in the Sun

    Like restless gossameres?

    Are these _her_ naked ribs, which ?eckd

    t did behem peer?

    And are the crew,

    t woman and her ?eshless Pheere?

    _h many a crack,

    All black and bare, I ween;

    Jet-black and bare, save w

    Of mouldy damps and c

    tch purple and green.

    _her_ lips are red, _her_ looks are free,

    _her_ locks are yellow as gold:

    e as leprosy,

    And shan he;

    ill air cold.

    the naked hulk alongside came

    And twain were playing dice;

    quot;t;

    Quotled thrice.

    A gust of erte up behind

    And hro his bones;

    th

    les and half-groans.

    ithe Sea

    Off darts tre-ship;

    ern bar

    t Star

    Almost atips.

    One after one by the horned Moon

    (Listen, O Stranger! to me)

    Eacurnd ly pang

    And cursd me h his ee.

    Four times ?fty living men,

    ith never a sigh or groan,

    ithump, a lifeless lump

    they droppd down one by one.

    their bodies ?y,--

    to bliss or woe;

    And every soul it passd me by,

    Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.


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