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   Chapter 14 No.14

Coleridge's Ancient Mariner and Select Poems By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Characters: 1475

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:04


Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,

Reality's dark dream! 95

I turn from you, and listen to the wind,

Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream

Of agony by torture lengthened out

That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav'st without,

Bare crag, or mountain-tairn, or blasted tree, 100

Or pine-grove whither woodman never clomb,

Or lonely house, long held the witches' home,

Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,

Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,

Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers, 105

Mak'st Devils' yule, with worse than wintry song,

The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.

Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds!

Thou mighty Poet, even to

frenzy bold!

What tell'st thou now about? 110

'Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,

With groans of trampled men, with smarting wounds-

At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold!

But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!

And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd, 115

With groans, and tremulous shudderings-all is over-

It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!

A tale of less affright,

And tempered with delight,

As Otway's self had framed the tender lay, 120

'Tis of a little child

Upon a lonesome wild,

Not far from home, but she hath lost her way:

And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,

And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear. 125

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