V.
O sleep, it is a gehing
Belovd from pole to pole!
To Mary-queen the praise be yeven
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven
That slid into my soul.
The silly buckets on the deck
That had so long remaind,
I dreamt that they were ?lld with dew
And when I awoke it raind.
My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams
And still my body drank.
I movd and could not feel my limbs,
I was so light, almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed Ghost.
The r wind! it roard far off,
It did not e anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air bursts into life,
And a hundred ?re-?ags sheen
To and fro they are hurried about;
And to and fro, and in and out
The stars dan between.
The ing wind doth roar more loud;
The sails do sigh, like sedge:
The rain pours down from one black cloud
And the Moon is at its edge.
Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft,
And the Moon is at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning falls with never a jag
A river steep and wide.
The strong wind reachd the ship: it roard
And droppd down, like a stone!
Beh the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groand, they stirrd, they all uprose,
Ne spake, ne movd their eyes:
It had been strange, even in a dream
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steerd, the ship movd on;
Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They raisd their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brothers son
Stood by me ko knee:
The body and I pulld at one rope,
But he said nought to me--
And I quakd to think of my own voice
Hhtful it would be!
The day-light dawnd--they droppd their arms,
And clusterd round the mast:
Sweet sounds rose slowly thro their mouths
And from their bodies passd.
Around, around, ?ew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again
Now mixd, now one by one.
Sometimes a dropping from the sky
I heard the Lavrock sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are
How they seemd to ?ll the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning,
And now twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely ?ute;
And now it is an angels song
That makes the heavee.
It ceasd: yet still the sails made on
A pleasant ill noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Sih a quiet tune.
Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest!
"Marihou hast thy will:
"For that, whies out of thine eye, doth make
"My body and soul to be still."
Never sadder tale was told
To a man of woman born:
Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!
Thoult rise to morrow morn.
Never sadder tale was heard
By a man of woman born:
The Marineres all returnd to work
As silent as beforne.
The Marineres all gan pull the ropes,
But look at me they nold:
Thought I, I am as thin as air--
They e behold.
Till moo