SO THIS THEN IS YE fRIME? of ye WHEREIN Is told Whilom on a Day an Ancient Sea- Faring Man Detaineth a Wedding-Guest & Telleth him a Grewsome Tale. Written by MMVEL TAYLOk COLE- RIDGE For ye better Understanding of ye Gentle Reader, Various Pictures are here Inserted by one William W. Den flow %i Siref (gfctfton Corrected anfc 3mprot>efc Done into a Booke by ye merrie Roycrofters at ye ROY- CROFT SHOP, at ye Sign of ye Hippocampus, adja- cent to ye Deestrick Academy for ye Younge, which is in East Aurora, New York, United States of America. i8gg v v \ ■Al Copyright i8 99 by Egbert Hubbard TWO COPIES RECE1 1 Library of Ccs e ?<5|M Register of Co; FIRbT copy, ^ VJWAJ2. *V°j .JO, Of this edition there were print- ed but Nine Hundred and Ten copies and types were then dis- tributed. This book is No. (c If Various of ye pictures are did by hande by ye First Ladies of East Aurora at a Bee : where- ye Ladies were kindly supervised by ye Deacon Denslow. PART ONE w % s: v* - *^ YE RIME £ of ye "ANCIENT MARINER 1 7 PART I. T is an ancient Mar- iner, And he stoppeth one of three. " By thy long gray beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ? An ancient Mariner meeteth three gal- lants bidden to a wedding feast, and detaineth 1 8 Tie Rime of " The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin ; The guests are met, the feast is set; May'st hear the merry din." He holds him with his skinny hand ; " There was a ship," quoth he. " Hold off! unhand me, gray- beard loon ! Eftsoons his hand dropt he. The Wed- ding-Guest is spell- bound by He holds him with his glittering eye; The Ancient Mariner J 9 The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child; The Mariner hath his will. the eye of the old sea- faring man, and con- strained to hear his tale. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone : He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that an- cient man, The bright-eyed Mariner : " The ship was cheered, the harbor cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. The Mari- ner telleth how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weath- er, till it reached the Line. 20 7%e Rime of " The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he; And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. " Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — " The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. The Wed- ding-Guest heareth the bridal The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; 'The Ancienl Manner 21 Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear ; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner : music ; but the Mariner continueth his tale. " And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong : He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. The ship drawn by a storm to- ward the south pole. 2 2 T%e Rime of " With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell & blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. " And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold : And ice, mast-high, came float- ing by, As green as emerald. Tie Ancient Mariner 23 " And through the drifts the The land of ice, and of snowy clifts fearful sound where no Did send a dismal sheen : living being was to be Nor shapes of men nor beasts seen. we ken, — The ice was all between. " The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around : It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound ! " At length did cross an Alba- Till a great sea-bird, tross; called the Albatross, Through the fog it came ; came through the 2 4 T%€ Rime^f snow-fog and was re- ceived with great joy and hospitality. As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. And lo ! the Alba- tross prov- eth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating " It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder- fit; The helmsman steered us through ! " And a good south-wind sprung up behind ; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners' hollo ! T&e Ancient Manner 25 " In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine ; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moon- shine." " God save thee, ancient Mari- ner I From the fiends, that plague thee thus ! — Why look'st thou so ! " — " With my cross-bow I shot the Albatross ! " The ancient Mariner in- hospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen. ^^ PART TWO To* Rime of The Ancient Manner 29 PART II. HE sun now rose upon the right : Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south-wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo ! 3° His ship- mates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck. T%€ Rime of And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe : For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah, wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow ! But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make them- selves ac- complices the crime. Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. Tht Ancient Mariner 3 1 'T was right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free ; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. The fair breeze con- tinues ; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails north- ward, even till it reach- ed the Line. Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down. 'T was sad as sad could be : And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea ! The ship hath been suddenly becalmed. 3 2 Tie Rime of All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor mo- tion ; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. And the Albatross begins to be avenged. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink. *Tht Ancient Mariner 33 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; A Spirit had followed them ; one of the invis- ible inhab- itants of this planet, neither de- parted souls nor angels ; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, 34 1%€ Rime of The Anuenl Mariner and the Platonic Constanti- nopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be con- sulted. They are very numer- ous, and there is no climate or element without one or more. The ship- mates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the an- cient Mari- ner : in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck. Nine fathoms deep he had fol- lowed 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 Alba- tross About my neck was hung. PART THREE Tie Rime of The Ancient Mariner 39 PART III. passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; 4° T%e Rime of 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. At its near- er approach, it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst. 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 ! 'The Ancient Manner 4 1 With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call : Grammercy ! they for joy did g rin > And all at once their breath drew in, As they were drinking all. See ! see ! (I cried) she tacks no more ! Hither to work us weal, — She steadies with upright keel ! The western wave was all aflame, The day was wellnigh done ! A flash of j°y; And horror follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward Without a breeze, without a tide, wind or tide? 4 2 Tie Rime of Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright sun ; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the sun. It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship. And straight the sun was fleck- ed with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace !) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered With broad and burning face. Alas ! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears ! T&e Ancienf Manner 43 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 ? And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting sun. The Spec- tre Woman and her Death- mate, and no other on board the skeleton- ship. Her lips were red, her looks ^JrZl' were free, Her locks were yellow as gold : Her skin was as white as leprosy, 44 T^be Rime of The Nightmare Life-in- Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. Death and Life-in- Death have diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) win- neth the ancient Mariner. No twilight within the courts of the sun. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice ? " The game is done ! I 've won ! I Ve won ! " Quoth she, and whistles thrice. 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. The A neurit Manner 45 We listened and looked side- At the ris- ing of the ways up ! moon. 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. One after one, by the star- One after J another, dogged moon, 4 6 Tie Rime of 'The Ancient Manner His ship- mates drop down dead. But Life- in- Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner. Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. 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 They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, Like the whizz of my cross-bow ! PART FOUR ibe Rime of The Ancient Mariner 5 1 PART IV. FEAR thee, ancient Mariner ! I fear thy skinny hand ! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. The Wed- ding-Guest feareth that a Spirit is talking to him. I fear thee & thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown." — 5 2 But the an- cient Mari- ner assureth him of his bodily life, and pro- ceedeth to relate his horrible penance. The Rime of " Fear not, fear not, thou Wed- ding-Guest ! This body dropt not down. Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea ! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. He despiseth the creat- ures of the calm. The many men, so beautiful ! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slim 1 things Lived on; and so did I. And envi- eth that they should I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away ; The Ancient Mariner 5 3 I looked upon the rotting deck, ^ d e sc And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried ' to pray ; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat ; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. 54 But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men. ibe Rime of The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they : The look with which they look- ed on me Had never passed away. An orphan'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 I could not die. 'The Ancient Manner 55 The moving Moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide : Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside — Her beams bemocked the sul- try main, Like April hoar-frost spread ; But where the ship's huge shad- ow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes : They moved in tracks of shin- ing white, In his lone- liness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still so- journ, yet still move onward ; and every- where the blue sky be- longs to them, and is their ap- pointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unan- nounced, as lords that are certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival. 56 ibe Rime of By the light of the moon he behold- eth God's creatures of the great calm. Their beau- ty and their happiness. And when they reared, the elf- ish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam ; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things ! no ton- gue Their beauty might declare : A spring of love gushed from my heart, 'The Anctenl Manner 57 And I blessed them unaware, — |"2tt!s Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The selfsame moment ' could Thespeii begins to pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea." break. PART FIVE T%e Rime of The Ancient Manner 61 PART V. SLEEP ! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole ! To Mary Queen the praise be given ! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul. The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, By grace of the holy Mother, 62 the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain. 7%e Rime of I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. 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 moved, 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 Ancient Mariner 63 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. He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the ele- ment. 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. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge ; 6 + T%e Rime of The bodies of the ship's crew are in- spired, and the ship moves on ; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a j a g> A river steep and wide. The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on ! 'Tht Ancient Mariner 65 Beneath the lightning and the moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on ; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, 66 The Rime 9/ Where they were wont to do ; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools, — - We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee : The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said naught to me." But not by the souls of the men, nor by de- mons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, sent down by the "I fear thee, ancient Mariner ! ' " Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest ! 'T was not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest : The Ancient Manner 7 For when it dawned they drop- ped their arms, And clustered round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun ; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the skylark sing : invocation of the guardian saint. 68 ) Tie Rime of Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning ! And now 't was like all instru- ments, Now like a lonely flute ; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, The Ancient Manner 69 That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. Till noon we quietly sailed 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. The lone- some Spirit from the South Pole carries on the ship as far as the Line, in obedience to the angelic troop, but still requir- eth ven- geance. 7° T%e Rime of The sun right up above the mast, Had fixed 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, As I fell down in a swound. j The Polar ! Spirit's fql-- i low demons, the invisible inhabitants How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare ; But ere my living life returned, / he Ancient Manner 7 1 I heard, and in my soul dis- cerned Two voices in the air. 'Is it he ? ' quoth one, < Is this the man ? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. of the ele- ment, take part in his wrong ; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the Polar Spirit, who returneth southward. The Spirit who abideth by him- self In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow/ 7 2 The Rime of 'The Anc»ei>t Mariner The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, < The man hath pen- ance done, And penance more will do.' ' PART SIX Tbe Rww of Tht AttCuenl Mariner 11 PART VI. FIRST VOICE. tell me, tell me ! speak again, Thy soft response renewing — What makes that ship drive on so fast ? What is the ocean doing ? ' SECOND VOICE. 'Still as a slave before' his lord, The ocean hath no blast; 78 TU Rime of His great bright eye most si- lently Up to the moon is cast — If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see ! how graciously She looketh down on him.' The Mari- ner hath been cast into a trance ; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive north- ward faster than human life could endure. FIRST VOICE. < But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind ? ' SECOND VOICE. < The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. The Ancient Mariner 79 Fly, brother, fly ! more high, more high ! Or we shall be belated : For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated/ I woke, and we were sailing on As in a gentle weather : 'T was night, calm night, the moon was high; The dead men stood together. The super- natural mo- tion is re- tarded ; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: 8o The curse is finally expiated. Tht Rime of All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away : I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray. And now this spell was snapt : once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far north, yet little saw Of what had else been seen — Tie Ancienl Mariner I Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round, walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made : Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. 82 Toe Rime of 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. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too : Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze — On me alone it blew. And the an- cient Mari- ner behold- eth his native country. Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see ? Is this the hill ? is this the kirk? Is this my own countree ? The Ancient Manner We drifted o'er the harbor-bar, And I with sobs did pray — O let me be awake, my God ! Or let me sleep alway. The harbor-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn ! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock : The moonlight steeped in si- lentness The steady weathercock. 84 Tot Rime of The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies. And appear in their own forms of light. And the bay was white with silent light Till, rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colors came. A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were : I turned my eyes upon the deck — O Christ ! what saw I there ! Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood ! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood. Tite Ancient Manner 85 This seraph-band, each waved his hand : 4 It was a heavenly sight ! JiL They stood as signals to the land, c "7 Each one a lovely light; P This seraph-band, each waved his hand, 1 No voice did they impart — No voice ; but oh ! the silence sank Like muoic on my heart. But soon I heard the dash of oars, I heard the Pilot's cheer; 86 Tie Rime of The Ancient Manner My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear. The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast : Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third — I heard his voice : It is the Hermit good ! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He '11 shrieve my soul, he '11 wash away The Albatross's blood." PART SEVEN Tie Rime of Tie Ancrcnt Manner 9 1 Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears ! He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree. He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve — He hath a cushion plump : The Hermit of the wood, 9 2 T^Rim**/ It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump. The skiff-boat neared : I heard them talk < Why, this is strange, I trow ! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now ? ' Approach- eth the ship with won- der. ' Strange, by my faith ! ' the Hermit said — 1 And they answered not our cheer ! The planks looked warped ! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere ! Tbt Ancient Mariner 93 I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along ; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.' < Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish look — (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared ' — < Push on, push on ! ' Said the Hermit cheerily. 94 7% Rimf *f The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred ; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard. The ship suddenly sinketh. Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread : It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead. The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat. Stunned by the loud and dread- ful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, The Ancient Manner 95 Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round & round ; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. :<: I moved my lips — the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; 9 6 7%r Rime 9/ The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars : the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. < Ha ! ha ! ' quoth he, i full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.' And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land ! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. T3k Ancient Mariner 97 < O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man ! ' The Hermit crossed his brow. 6 Say quick,' quoth he, < I bid thee say — What manner of man art thou ? ' Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tal e; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns : And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him ; and the penance of life falls an him. And ever and anon throughout his future life an ago- ny con- strained! 9 8 him to trav- el from land to land. ibe Rime of I pass, like night, from land to land ; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me : To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door ! The wedding-guests are there : But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are : And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer ! TXe Ancient Manner 99 O Wedding-Guest ! this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea : So lonely 't was, that God him- self Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage- feast, 'T is sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company ! — To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father blends, IOO T%€ Rime of Old men, and babes, and lov- ing friends, And youths and maidens gay ! And to teach by own exam- ple love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth. Farewell ! farewell ! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small ; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all." The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, T%e Ancient Mariner i o i Is gone: and now the Wedding- Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn : A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. SO here endeth the RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, as done into a book by the Roycrofters at the Roy croft Shop that is in East Aurora, Erie County, New York, U. S. A. Completed this 15th day May, Anno Christi, MDCCCXCIX Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: March 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724) 779-2111