Re: JB needs a new Name
A touch of literary culture and a tribute to JB's possible new name. (Yes it's long but worth it)<br /><br />The Rime of the Ancient Mariner<br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />PART THE FIRST <br /><br />It is an ancient mariner, <br />And he stoppeth one of three. <br />"By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, <br />Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? <br /><br />"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, <br />And I am next of kin; <br />The guests are met, the feast is set: <br />May'st hear the merry din." <br /><br />He holds him with his skinny hand, <br />"There was a ship," quoth he. <br />"Hold off! unhand me, greybeard loon!" <br />Eftsoons his hand dropt he. <br /><br />He holds him with his glittering eye - <br />The wedding-guest stood still, <br />And listens like a three years' child: <br />The Mariner hath his will. <br /><br />The wedding-guest sat on a stone: <br />He cannot chose but hear; <br />And thus spake on that ancient man, <br />The bright-eyed mariner. <br /><br />"The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, <br />Merrily did we drop <br />Below the kirk, below the hill, <br />Below the lighthouse top. <br /><br />The sun came up upon the left, <br />Out of the sea came he! <br />And he shone bright, and on the right <br />Went down into the sea. <br /><br />Higher and higher every day, <br />Till over the mast at noon-" <br />The Wedding-guest here beat his ******, <br />For he heard the loud bassoon. <br /><br />The bride hath paced into the hall, <br />Red as a rose is she; <br />Nodding their heads before her goes <br />The merry minstrelsy. <br /><br />The Wedding-Guest he beat his ******. <br />Yet he cannot choose but hear: <br />And thus spake on that ancient man, <br />The bright-eyed Mariner. <br /><br />"And now the Storm-blast came, and he <br />Was tyrannous and strong: <br />He struck with his o'ertaking wings, <br />And chased us south along. <br /><br />With sloping masts and dipping prow, <br />As who pursued with yell and blow <br />Still treads the shadow of his foe <br />And forward bends his head, <br />The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, <br />And southward aye we fled. <br /><br />And now there came both mist and snow <br />And it grew wondrous cold: <br />And ice, mast-high, came floating by, <br />As green as emerald. <br /><br />And through the drifts the snowy clifts <br />Did send a dismal sheen: <br />Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken - <br />The ice was all between. <br /><br />The ice was here, the ice was there, <br />The ice was all around: <br />It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, <br />Like noises in a swound! <br /><br />At length did cross and Albatross, <br />Thorough the fog it came; <br />As if it had been a Christian soul, <br />We hailed it in God's name. <br /><br />It ate the food it ne'er had eat, <br />And round and round it flew. <br />The ice did split with a thunder-fit; <br />The helmsman steered us through! <br /><br />And a good south wind sprung up behind; <br />The albatross did follow, <br />And every day, for food or play, <br />Came to the mariner's hollo! <br /><br />In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, <br />It perched for vespers nine; <br />Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, <br />Glimmered the white moonshine." <br /><br />"God save thee, ancient Mariner: <br />From the fiends, that plague thee thus! - <br />Why look'st thou so?" - "With my cross-bow <br />I shot the Albatross." <br /><br /> <br />PART THE SECOND <br /><br />"The Sun now rose upon the right: <br />Out of the sea came he, <br />Still hid in mist, and on the left <br />Went down into the sea. <br /><br />And the good south wind still blew behind, <br />But no sweet bird did follow, <br />Not any day for food or play <br />Came to the mariner's hollo! <br /><br />And I had done an hellish thing, <br />And it would work 'em woe: <br />For all averred, I had killed the bird <br />That made the breeze to blow. <br />'Ah wretch!' said they, 'the bird to slay, <br />That made the breeze to blow!' <br /><br />Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, <br />The glorious Sun uprist: <br />Then all averred, I had killed the bird <br />That brought the fog and mist. <br />'Twas right', said they, 'such birds to slay, <br />That bring the fog and mist.' <br /><br />The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, <br />The furrow followed free; <br />We were the first that ever burst <br />Into that silent sea. <br /><br />Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, <br />'Twas sad as sad could be; <br />And we did speak only to break <br />The silence of the sea! <br /><br />All in a hot and copper sky, <br />The bloody Sun, at noon, <br />Right up above the mast did stand, <br />No bigger than the Moon. <br /><br />Day after day, day after day, <br />We stuck, nor breath nor motion; <br />As idle as a painted ship <br />Upon a painted ocean. <br /><br />Water, water, everywhere, <br />And all the boards did shrink; <br />Water, water, everywhere, <br />Nor any drop to drink. <br /><br />The very deep did rot: O Christ! <br />That ever this should be! <br />Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs <br />Upon the slimy sea. <br /><br />About, about in reel and rout <br />The death-fires danced at night; <br />The water, like a witch's oils, <br />Burnt green, and blue and white. <br /><br />And some in dreams assured were <br />Of the spirit that plagued us so; <br />Nine fathom deep he had followed us <br />From the land of mist and snow. <br /><br />And every tongue, through utter drought, <br />Was withered at the root; <br />We could not speak, no more than if <br />We had been choked with soot. <br /><br />Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks <br />Had I from old and young! <br />Instead of the cross, the Albatross <br />About my neck was hung." <br /> <br /><br />PART THE THIRD <br /><br />"There passed a weary time. Each throat <br />Was parched, and glazed each eye. <br />A weary time! a weary time! <br />How glazed each weary eye, <br />When looking westward, I beheld <br />A something in the sky. <br /><br />At first it seemed a little speck, <br />And then it seemed a mist; <br />It moved and moved, and took at last <br />A certain shape, I wist. <br /><br />A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! <br />And still it neared and neared: <br />As if it dodged a water-sprite, <br />It plunged and tacked and veered. <br /><br />With throats unslacked, with black lips baked, <br />We could not laugh nor wail; <br />Through utter drought all dumb we stood: <br />I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, <br />And cried, 'A sail! a sail!' <br /><br />With throats unslacked, with black lips baked, <br />Agape they heard me call: <br />Gramercy! they for joy did grin, <br />And all at once their breath drew in, <br />As they were drinking all. <br /><br />See! See! (I cried) she tacks no more! <br />Hither to work us weal; <br />Without a breeze, without a tide, <br />She steadies with upright keel! <br /><br />The western wave was all a-flame. <br />The day was wellnigh done! <br />Almost upon the western wave <br />Rested the broad bright Sun; <br />When that strange shape drove suddenly <br />Betwixt us and the Sun. <br /><br />And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, <br />(Heaven's Mother send us grace!) <br />As if through a dungeon-grate he peered <br />With broad and burning face. <br /><br />Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) <br />How fast she nears and nears! <br />Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, <br />Like restless gossameres! <br /><br />Are those her ribs through which the Sun <br />Did peer, as through a grate? <br />And is that Woman all her crew? <br />Is that a Death? and are there two? <br />Is Death that woman's mate? <br /><br />Her lips were red, her looks were free, <br />Her locks were yellow as gold: <br />Her skin was as white as leprosy, <br />The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, <br />Who thicks man's blood with cold. <br /><br />The naked hulk alongside came, <br />And the twain were casting dice; <br />'The game is done! I've won, I've won!' <br />Quoth she, and whistles thrice. <br /><br />The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: <br />At one stride comes the dark; <br />With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, <br />Off shot the spectre-bark. <br /><br />We listened and looked sideways up! <br />Fear at my heart, as at a cup, <br />My life-blood seemed to sip! <br />The stars were dim, and thick the night, <br />The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; <br />From the sails the dew did drip - <br />Till clomb above the eastern bar <br />The hornèd Moon, with one bright star <br />Within the nether tip. <br /><br />One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, <br />Too quick for groan or sigh, <br />Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, <br />And cursed me with his eye. <br /><br />Four times fifty living men, <br />(And I heard nor sigh nor groan) <br />With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, <br />They dropped down one by one. <br /><br />The souls did from their bodies fly, - <br />They fled to bliss or woe! <br />And every soul, it passed me by, <br />Like the whizz of my cross-bow!" <br /> <br /><br />PART THE FOURTH <br /><br />"I fear thee, ancient mariner! <br />I fear thy skinny hand! <br />And thou art long, and lank, and brown, <br />As is the ribbed sea-sand. <br /><br />I fear thee and thy glittering eye, <br />And thy skinny hand, so brown." - <br />Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! <br />This body dropt not down. <br /><br />Alone, alone, all, all alone, <br />Alone on a wide wide sea! <br />And never a saint took pity on <br />My soul in agony. <br /><br />The many men, so beautiful! <br />And they all dead did lie: <br />And a thousand thousand slimy things <br />Lived on; and so did I. <br /><br />I looked upon the rotting sea, <br />And drew my eyes away; <br />I looked upon the rotting deck, <br />And there the dead men lay. <br /><br />I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; <br />But or ever a prayer had gusht, <br />A wicked whisper came, and made <br />My heart as dry as dust. <br /><br />I closed my lids, and kept them close, <br />And the balls like pulses beat; <br />For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky <br />Lay like a load on my weary eye, <br />And the dead were at my feet. <br /><br />The cold sweat melted from their limbs, <br />Nor rot nor reek did they; <br />The look with which they looked on me <br />Had never passed away. <br /><br />An orphan's curse would drag to **** <br />A spirit from on high; <br />But oh! more horrible than that <br />Is a curse in a dead man's eye! <br />Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, <br />And yet I could not die. <br /><br />The moving Moon went up the sky, <br />And nowhere did abide: <br />Softly she was going up, <br />And a star or two beside - <br /><br />Her beams bemocked the sultry main, <br />Like April hoar-frost spread; <br />But where the ship's huge shadow lay, <br />The charmèd water burnt alway <br />A still and awful red. <br /><br />Beyond the shadow of the ship, <br />I watched the water-snakes: <br />They moved in tracks of shining white, <br />And when they reared, the elfish light <br />Fell off in hoary flakes. <br /><br />Within the shadow of the ship <br />I watched their rich attire: <br />Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, <br />They coiled and swam; and every track <br />Was a flash of golden fire. <br /><br />O happy living things! no tongue <br />Their beauty might declare: <br />A spring of love gushed from my heart, <br />And I blessed them unaware: <br />Sure my kind saint took pity on me, <br />And I blessed them unaware. <br /><br />The selfsame moment I could pray; <br />And from my neck so free <br />The Albatross fell off, and sank <br />Like lead into the sea." <br /> <br /><br />PART THE FIFTH <br /><br />Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, <br />Beloved from pole to pole! <br />To Mary Queen the praise be given! <br />She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, <br />That slid into my soul. <br /><br />The silly buckets on the deck, <br />That had so long remained, <br />I dreamt that they were filled with dew; <br />And when I awoke, it rained. <br /><br />My lips were wet, my throat was cold, <br />My garments all were dank; <br />Sure I had drunken in my dreams, <br />And still my body drank. <br /><br />I moved, and could not feel my limbs: <br />I was so light - almost <br />I thought that I had died in sleep, <br />And was a blessèd ghost. <br /><br />And soon I heard a roaring wind: <br />It did not come anear; <br />But with its sound it shook the sails, <br />That were so thin and sere. <br /><br />The upper air burst into life! <br />And a hundred fire-flags sheen, <br />To and fro they were hurried about! <br />And to and fro, and in and out, <br />The wan stars danced between. <br /><br />And the coming wind did roar more loud, <br />And the sails did sigh like sedge; <br />And the rain poured down from one black cloud; <br />The Moon was at its edge. <br /><br />The thick black cloud was cleft, and still <br />The Moon was at its side: <br />Like waters shot from some high crag, <br />The lightning fell with never a jag, <br />A river steep and wide. <br /><br />The loud wind never reached the ship, <br />Yet now the ship moved on! <br />Beneath the lightning and the Moon <br />The dead men gave a groan. <br /><br />They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, <br />Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; <br />It had been strange, even in a dream, <br />To have seen those dead men rise. <br /><br />The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; <br />Yet never a breeze up blew; <br />The mariners all 'gan to work the ropes, <br />Where they were wont to do; <br />They raised their limbs like lifeless tools - <br />We were a ghastly crew. <br /><br />The body of my brother's son <br />Stood by me, knee to knee: <br />The body and I pulled at a rope, <br />But he said nought to me." <br /><br />"I fear thee ancient Mariner!" <br />"Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! <br />'Twas not these souls that fled in pain, <br />Which to their corses came again, <br />But a troop of spirits blest: <br /><br />For when it dawned - they dropt their arms, <br />And clustered round the mast; <br />Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, <br />And from their bodies passed. <br /><br />Around, around, flew each sweet sound. <br />Then darted to the Sun; <br />Slowly the sounds came back again <br />Now mixed, now one by one. <br /><br />Sometimes a-dropping from the sky <br />I heard the skylark sing; <br />Sometimes all little birds that are, <br />How they seemed to fill the sea and air <br />With their sweet jargoning! <br /><br />And now 'twas like all instruments, <br />Now like a lonely flute; <br />And now it is an angel's song, <br />That makes the heavens be mute. <br /><br />It ceased; yet still the sails made on <br />A pleasant noise till noon, <br />A noise like of a hidden brook <br />In the leafy month of June, <br />That to the sleeping woods all night <br />Singeth a quiet tune. <br /><br />Till noon we quietly sailed on, <br />Yet never a breeze did breathe: <br />Slowly and smoothly went the ship, <br />Moved onward from beneath. <br /><br />Under the keel nine fathom deep, <br />From the land of mist and snow, <br />The spirit slid: and it was he <br />That made the ship to go. <br />The sails at noon left off their rune, <br />And the ship stood still also. <br /><br />The Sun, right up above the mast, <br />Had fixed her to the ocean: <br />But in a minute she 'gan stir, <br />With a short uneasy motion - <br />Backwards and forwards half her length <br />With a short uneasy motion. <br /><br />Then, like a pawing horse let go, <br />She made a sudden bound: <br />It flung the blood into my head, <br />And I fell down in a swound. <br /><br />How long in that same fit I lay, <br />I have not to declare; <br />But ere my living life returned, <br />I heard and in my soul discerned <br />Two voices in the air. <br /><br />'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? <br />By him who died on the cross, <br />Which his cruel bow he laid full low <br />The harmless Albatross." <br /><br />The spirit who bideth by himself <br />In the land of mist and snow, <br />He loved the bird that loved the man <br />Who shot him with his bow.' <br /><br />The other was a softer voice, <br />As soft as honeydew: <br />Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, <br />And penance more will do.' " <br /> <br /><br />PART THE SIXTH <br /><br />(first voice) <br /><br />"'But tell me, tell me! Speak again, <br />Thy soft response renewing - <br />What makes that ship drive on so fast? <br />What is the ocean doing?' <br /><br />(second voice) <br /><br />'Still as a slave before his lord, <br />The ocean hath no blast; <br />His great bright eye most silently <br />Up to the Moon is cast - <br /><br />If he may know which way to go; <br />For she guides him smooth or grim. <br />See, brother, see! how graciously <br />She looketh down on him.' <br /><br />(first voice) <br /><br />'But why drives on that ship so fast, <br />Without or wave or wind?' <br /><br />(second voice) <br /><br />'The air is cut away before, <br />And closes from behind. <br /><br />Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! <br />Or we shall be belated: <br />For slow and slow that ship will go, <br />When the Mariner's trance is abated.' <br /><br />I woke, and we were sailing on <br />As in a gentle weather: <br />'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; <br />The dead men stood together. <br /><br />All stood together on the deck, <br />For a charnel-dungeon fitter: <br />All fized on me their stony eyes, <br />That in the Moon did glitter. <br /><br />The pang, the curse, with which they died, <br />Had never passed away: <br />I could not draw my eyes from theirs, <br />Nor turn them up to pray. <br /><br />And now this spell was snapt: once more <br />I viewed the ocean green, <br />And looked far forth, yet little saw <br />Of what had else been seen - <br /><br />Like one, that on a lonesome road <br />Doth walk in fear and dread. <br />And having once turned round walks on, <br />And turns no more his head; <br />Because he knows, a frightful fiend <br />Doth close behind him tread. <br /><br />But soon there breathed a wind on me, <br />Nor sound nor motion made: <br />Its path was not upon the sea, <br />In ripple or in shade. <br /><br />It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek <br />Like a meadow-gale of spring - <br />It mingled strangely with my fears, <br />Yet it felt like a welcoming. <br /><br />Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, <br />Yet she sailed softly too: <br />Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - <br />On me alone it blew. <br /><br />Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed <br />The lighthouse top I see? <br />Is this the hill? is this the kirk? <br />Is this mine own countree? <br /><br />We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, <br />And I with sobs did pray - <br />O let me be awake, my God! <br />Or let me sleep alway. <br /><br />The harbour-bay was clear as glass, <br />So smoothly it was strewn! <br />And on the bay the moonlight lay, <br />And the shadow of the Moon. <br /><br />The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, <br />That stands above the rock: <br />The moonlight steeped in silentness <br />The steady weathercock. <br /><br />And the bay was white with silent light, <br />Till rising from the same, <br />Full many shapes, that shadows were, <br />In crimson colours came. <br /><br />A little distance from the prow <br />Those crimson shadows were: <br />I turned my eyes upon the deck - <br />Oh, Christ! what saw I there! <br /><br />Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, <br />And, by the holy rood! <br />A man all light, a seraph-man, <br />On every corse there stood. <br /><br />This seraph-band, each waved his hand: <br />It was a heavenly sight! <br />They stood as signals to the land, <br />Each one a lovely light; <br /><br />This seraph-band, each waved his hand, <br />No voice did they impart - <br />No voice; but oh! the silence sank <br />Like music on my heart. <br /><br />But soon I heard the dash of oars, <br />I heard the Pilot's cheer; <br />My head was turned perforce away, <br />And I saw a boat appear. <br /><br />The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, <br />I heard them coming fast: <br />Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy <br />The dead men could not blast. <br /><br />I saw a third - I heard his voice: <br />It is the Hermit good! <br />He singeth loud his godly hymns <br />That he makes in the wood. <br />He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away <br />The Albatross's blood." <br /> <br /><br />PART THE SEVENTH <br /><br />"This hermit good lives in that wood <br />Which slopes down to the sea. <br />How loudly his sweet voice he rears! <br />He loves to talk with mariners <br />That come from a far countree. <br /><br />He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve - <br />He hath a cushion plump: <br />It is the moss that wholly hides <br />The rotted old oak-stump. <br /><br />The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, <br />'Why this is strange, I trow! <br />Where are those lights to many and fair, <br />That signal made but now?' <br /><br />'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said - <br />'And they answered not our cheer! <br />The planks look warped! and see those sails, <br />How thin they are and sere! <br />I never saw aught like to them, <br />Unless perchance it were <br /><br />Brown skeletons of leaves that lag <br />My forest-brook along; <br />When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, <br />And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, <br />That eats the she-wolf's young.' <br /><br />'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look - <br />(The Pilot made reply) <br />I am a-feared' - 'Push on, push on!' <br />Said the Hermit cheerily. <br /><br />The boat came closer to the ship, <br />But I nor spake nor stirred; <br />The boat came close beneath the ship, <br />And straight a sound was heard. <br /><br />Under the water it rumbled on, <br />Still louder and more dread: <br />It reached the ship, it split the bay; <br />The ship went down like lead. <br /><br />Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, <br />Which sky and ocean smote, <br />Like one that hath been seven days drowned <br />My body lay afloat; <br />But swift as dreams, myself I found <br />Within the Pilot's boat. <br /><br />Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, <br />The boat spun round and round; <br />And all was still, save that the hill <br />Was telling of the sound. <br /><br />I moved my lips - the Pilot shrieked <br />And fell down in a fit; <br />The holy Hermit raised his eyes, <br />And prayed where he did sit. <br /><br />I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, <br />Who now doth crazy go, <br />Laughed loud and long, and all the while <br />His eyes went to and fro. <br />'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, <br />The Devil knows how to row.' <br /><br />And now, all in my own countree, <br />I stood on the firm land! <br />The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, <br />And scarcely he could stand. <br /><br />'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!' <br />The Hermit crossed his brow. <br />'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say - <br />What manner of man art thou?' <br /><br />Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched <br />With a woeful agony, <br />Which forced me to begin my tale; <br />And then it left me free. <br /><br />Since then, at an uncertain hour, <br />That agony returns: <br />And till my ghastly tale is told, <br />This heart within me burns. <br /><br />I pass, like night, from land to land; <br />I have strange power of speech; <br />That moment that his face I see, <br />I know the man that must hear me: <br />To him my tale I teach. <br /><br />What loud uproar bursts from that door! <br />The wedding-guests are there: <br />But in the garden-bower the bride <br />And bride-maids singing are: <br />And hark the little vesper bell, <br />Which biddeth me to prayer! <br /><br />O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been <br />Alone on a wide wide sea: <br />So lonely 'twas, that God Himself <br />Scarce seemed there to be. <br /><br />O sweeter than the marriage-feast, <br />'Tis sweeter far to me, <br />To walk together to the kirk <br />With a goodly company! - <br /><br />To walk together to the kirk, <br />And all together pray, <br />While each to his great Father bends, <br />Old men, and babes, and loving friends, <br />And youths and maidens gay! <br /><br />Farewell, farewell! but this I tell <br />To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! <br />He prayeth well, who loveth well <br />Both man and bird and beast. <br /><br />He prayeth best, who loveth best <br />All things both great and small; <br />For the dear God who loveth us, <br />He made and loveth all. <br /><br />The Mariner, whose eye is bright, <br />Whose beard with age is hoar, <br />Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest <br />Turned from the bridegroom's door. <br /><br />He went like one that hath been stunned, <br />And is of sense forlorn: <br />A sadder and a wiser man, <br />He rose the morrow morn. <br /><br />
