Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/659



And some in dreams assurèd were Or the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought, Was wither'd 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 Albatross About my neck was hung.

'There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parch'd, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye! When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky.

At first it seem'd a little speck, And then it seem'd a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it near'd and near'd: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged, and tack'd, and veer'd.