Page:Lyrical Ballads (Coleridge).djvu/38

 One after one by the horned Moon
 * (Listen, O Stranger! to me)

Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang
 * And curs'd me with his ee.

Four times fifty living men,
 * With never a sigh or groan.

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump
 * They dropp'd down one by one.

Their souls did from their bodies fly,—
 * They fled to bliss or woe;

And every soul it pass'd me by,
 * Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.