Page:Lyrical Ballads (Coleridge).djvu/46

 Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft,
 * And the Moon is at its side:

Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning falls with never a jag
 * A river steep and wide.

The strong wind reach'd the ship: it roar'd
 * And dropp'd down, like a stone!

Beneath the lightning and the moon
 * The dead men gave a groan.

They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose,
 * Ne spake, ne mov'd their eyes:

It had been strange, even in a dream
 * To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steerd, the ship mov'd on;
 * Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
 * Where they were wont to do: