It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three: “By thy long gray beard and thy glittering eye Now wherefore stoppest me?
The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The Guests are met, the Feast is set— May’st hear the merry din.”
But still he holds the wedding-guest— “There was a Ship,” quoth he— “Nay, if thou’st got a laughsome tale, Mariner! come with me.”
He holds him with his skinny hand, Quoth he, “There was a Ship—” “Now get thee hence, thou gray-beard Loon! Or my Staff shall make thee skip.”
He holds him with his glittering eye— The wedding-guest stood still And listens like a three years’ child; The Mariner hath his will.
The wedding-guest sate on a stone, He cannot choose but hear: And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.
“The Ship was cheered, the Harbour cleared— Merrily did we drop Below the Kirk, below the Hill, Below the Light-house top.
The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the Sea came he: And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea.
Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon—” The wedding-guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
The Bride hath paced into the Hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her go The merry Minstrelsy.
The wedding-guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear: And thus spake on that ancient Man, The bright-eyed Mariner:
