Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/33

 And some in dreams assured were Of the spirit that plagued us so: Nine fathom deep he had followed 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 choak'd 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.