Page:Lyrical Ballads (Coleridge).djvu/61

 Then vanish'd all the lovely lights;
 * The bodies rose anew:

With silent pace, each to his place,
 * Came back the ghastly crew.

The wind, that shade nor motion made,
 * On me alone it blew.

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 ingeth loud his godly hymns
 * That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
 * The Albatross's blood,