English Songs and Ballads Part 39

Thus Death, who kings and tars despatches, In vain Tom's life has doff'd, For, though his body's under hatches, His soul has gone aloft.

BLOW HIGH, BLOW LOW

Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear The mainmast by the board; My heart with thoughts of thee, my dear, And love, well stored, Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear, The roaring winds, the raging sea, In hopes on sh.o.r.e To be once more Safe moor'd with thee!

Aloft while mountains high we go, The whistling winds that scud along, And surges roaring from below, Shall my signal be, To think on thee, And this shall be my song: Blow high, blow low.

And on that night when all the crew The mem'ry of their former lives O'er flowing cans of flip renew, And drink their sweethearts and their wives, I'll heave a sigh, and think on thee; And, as the s.h.i.+p rolls through the sea, The burthen of my song shall be-- Blow high, blow low.

THE JOLLY YOUNG WATERMAN

And did you not hear of a jolly young Waterman, Who at Blackfriars Bridge us'd for to ply, And he feather'd his oars with such skill and dexterity, Winning each heart and delighting each eye.

He look'd so neat and row'd so steadily, The maidens all flock'd to his boat so readily, And he eyed the young rogues with so charming an air, That this Waterman ne'er was in want of a fare.

What sights of fine folks he oft row'd in his wherry, 'Twas cleaned out so nice and so painted withall, He always was first oars when the fine city ladies, In a party to Ranelagh went, or Vauxhall.

And oft-times would they be giggling and leering, But 'twas all one to Tom their jibing and jeering, For loving or liking he little did care, For this Waterman ne'er was in want of a fare.

And yet but to see how strangely things happen, As he row'd along thinking of nothing at all, He was ply'd by a damsel so lovely and charming, That she smil'd, and so straightway in love he did fall.

And would this young damsel e'en banish his sorrow, He'd wed her to-night, before even to-morrow, And how should this Waterman ever know care, When he's married and never in want of a fare?

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

PART I

[Sidenote: An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.]

It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three.

'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou 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.'

He holds him with his skinny hand, 'There was a s.h.i.+p,' quoth he.

'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

[Sidenote: The Wedding-Guest is spellbound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.]

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 sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The s.h.i.+p was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top.

[Sidenote: The Mariner tells how the s.h.i.+p sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it reached the Line.]

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 ba.s.soon.

[Sidenote: The Wedding-Guest heareth the bridal music; but the Mariner continueth his tale.]

The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes 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.

[Sidenote: The s.h.i.+p drawn by a storm toward the south pole.]

'And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe And forward bends his head, The s.h.i.+p drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.

[Sidenote: The land of ice, and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen.]

And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken-- The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!

[Sidenote: Till a great sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality]

At length did cross an Albatross: Thorough the fog it came; As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in G.o.d's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through!

[Sidenote: And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the s.h.i.+p as it returned northward, through fog and floating ice.]

And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moon-s.h.i.+ne.'

[Sidenote: The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen.]