Water, water, every where, and all the boards did shrink
Water, water, every where, nor any drop to drink
The very deep did rot: O Christ! that ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea
About, about, in reel and rout the death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils, burnt green, and blue, and white
And some in dreams assured were of the spirit that plagued us so
Nine fathom deep he had followed us from the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought, was withered at the root
We could not speak, no more than if we had been choked with soot
Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross about my neck was hung
There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched
And glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye - When looking westward
I beheld a something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck
And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved
And took at last a certain shape, I wist
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! and still it neared and neared
As if it dodged a water-sprite, it plunged and tacked and veered
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked
We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried
A sail! a sail! Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun
Like restless gossameres?
Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer
As through a grate? and is that Woman all her crew? Is that a Death?
And are there two? Is Death that Woman's mate?
Her lips were red, her looks were free, her locks were yellow as gold
Her skin was as white as leprosy
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold
The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark
With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, off shot the spectre-bark
We listened and looked sideways up! fear at my heart, as at a cup
My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white
From the sails the dew did drip
Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned moon
With one bright star within the nether tip
Four times fifty living men, (and I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, they dropped down one by one
The souls did from their bodies fly, they fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul it passed me by, like the whizz of my crossbow!