LINES FROM THE ANCIENT MARINER

                     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 ship 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.

 

                     And through the drifts the snowy clifts

                     Did send a dismal sheen :

                     Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken --

                     The ice was al between.

 

                     The ice was here ,the ice was here,

                     The ice was all round :

                      It cracked and growled , and roared and howled ,

                      Like noises in a swound .

                             

                                                                                      ------ S. T. Cloleridge

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