'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 ship drove fast, loud roar'd the blast, The 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. 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 crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd, Like noises in a swound! 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 hail'd it in God'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 steer'd us through! And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship 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 perch'd for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmer'd the white moonshine.' The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen. 'God save thee, ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus!-- Why look'st thou so?'--'With my crossbow I shot the Albatross. PART II 'The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner for killing the bird of good luck. And I had done an hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow! But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime. Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze continues; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.