My Dearest Marie,
Oh, it wouldve been couldve been
Worse than you would ever know.
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
from the land of mist and snow
It began with your humble Mariner,
And at the docks he solicit me.
"By thy mangy beard and lame eye,
Now what for stopp'st thou me?
He holds it with his skinny hand,
"A Krakens lure," quoth he.
"Hold off! This bauble tells your fate!"
Into my hand dropped glass did he.
I held him with his quivering eye,
The beggar man sat still,
And listened like a three years child:
"This Mariner hath his will."
The ship was cheer'd, the harbour clear'd,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.
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,
The southward aye we fled.
Till noon we quietly sail'd on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The Spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
And appear in their own forms of light.
A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows where:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck—
Manaan! what saw I there!
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
A bauble's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet it would not die.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
But then those salty Batton Boys
In selfless sacrifice
Threw their favorite rum overboard
Not once, not twice, not thrice!
Oh, it wouldve been couldve been
Worse than you would ever know.
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
from the land of mist and snow
It began with your humble Mariner,
And at the docks he solicit me.
"By thy mangy beard and lame eye,
Now what for stopp'st thou me?
He holds it with his skinny hand,
"A Krakens lure," quoth he.
"Hold off! This bauble tells your fate!"
Into my hand dropped glass did he.
I held him with his quivering eye,
The beggar man sat still,
And listened like a three years child:
"This Mariner hath his will."
The ship was cheer'd, the harbour clear'd,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.
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,
The southward aye we fled.
Till noon we quietly sail'd on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The Spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
And appear in their own forms of light.
A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows where:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck—
Manaan! what saw I there!
The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
Beyond the shadow of the ship,
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
A bauble's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet it would not die.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
But then those salty Batton Boys
In selfless sacrifice
Threw their favorite rum overboard
Not once, not twice, not thrice!
He throwest best, who drinketh best
All drinks both great and tall;
For the dear Boys who loveth us,
They threw and they threw all.
God save thee, Marienburger!
From the fiends, I plead, I beg!—
'Why look'st thou so?'—With my pistol
I shot the nearest keg.
And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmèd water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen—
Oh, it wouldve been couldve been
Worse than you would ever know.
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
from the land of mist and snow
It did end with your humble Mariner,
And at the docks he beckon me.
"By thy mangy beard and lame eye,
Now what for think'st thou me?
He held out with his skinny hand,
"The Krakens lure," quoth he.
Into his hand dropped the glass did I.
"Oh it should've been, would've been,
Worse than you would ever see."
All drinks both great and tall;
For the dear Boys who loveth us,
They threw and they threw all.
God save thee, Marienburger!
From the fiends, I plead, I beg!—
'Why look'st thou so?'—With my pistol
I shot the nearest keg.
And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring—
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmèd water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen—
Oh, it wouldve been couldve been
Worse than you would ever know.
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
from the land of mist and snow
It did end with your humble Mariner,
And at the docks he beckon me.
"By thy mangy beard and lame eye,
Now what for think'st thou me?
He held out with his skinny hand,
"The Krakens lure," quoth he.
Into his hand dropped the glass did I.
"Oh it should've been, would've been,
Worse than you would ever see."
