"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 ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
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 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 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.
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 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 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!
At length did cross an Albatross:
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.
It ate the food it ne'er did eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!
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;
Whilst all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moon-shine.
"God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!--
Why look'st thou so?"--With my cross-bow
I shot the albatross.
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!
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay
That made the breeze to blow!
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed 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 blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free:
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
The very deep did rot: O Christ!
And round about, in reel and rout
And some in dreams assurèd were
And every tongue, through utter drought,
Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
At first it seemed a little speck,
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
The western wave was all a-flame
And straight the sun was flecked with bars,
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
Are those her ribs through which the sun
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
The naked hulk alongside came,
The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
We listened and looked sideways up!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
One after one, by the star-dogged moon,
Four times fifty living men,
The souls did from their bodies fly,--
"I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
Alone, alone, all, all alone,
The many men, so beautiful!
I looked upon the rotting sea,
I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray:
I closed my lids, and kept them close,
The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
The moving moon went up the sky,
Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Beyond the shadow of the ship,
Within the shadow of the ship
O happy living things! no tongue
The self same moment I could pray;
The silly buckets on the deck,
My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
And soon I heard a roaring wind:
The upper air burst into life!
And the coming wind did roar more loud,
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The loud wind never reached the ship,
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
The body of my brother's son,
"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!"
For when it dawned--they dropped their arms,
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
And now 'twas like all instruments,
It ceased; yet still the sails made on
Till noon we quietly sailèd on,
Under the keel nine fathom deep,
The sun, right up above the mast,
Then like a pawing horse let go,
How long in that same fit I lay,
"Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man?
"The spirit who bideth by himself
The other was a softer voice,
If he may know which way to go;
I woke, and we were sailing on
All stood together on the deck,
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
And now this spell was snapt: once more
Like one that on a lonesome road
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
And the bay was white with silent light,
A little distance from the prow
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
This seraph band, each waved his hand:
This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
But soon I heard the dash of oars;
The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy,
I saw a third--I heard his voice:
He kneels at morn and noon and eve--
The skiff-boat neared : I heard them talk,
"Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said--
Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
"Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look--
The boat came closer to the ship,
Under the water it rumbled on,
Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
I moved my lips--the Pilot shrieked
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
And now, all in my own countree,
"O shrive me, shrive me, holy man!"
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
I pass, like night, from land to land;
What loud uproar bursts from that door!
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
To walk together to the kirk,
Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
He prayeth best, who loveth best
The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
He went like one that hath been stunned,
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 – 1834).
This great anthem of praise for the sea and for all its varied birds and fishes was first published in 1798. Two hundred years on the same sea is dying as a result of humanity's lack of wisdom and compassion. I no longer eat fish of any kind because I am aware that stocks are being decimated and that seabirds and other marine creatures are struggling to find enough to eat in what was once a bounteous sea.
The Natural World: all creatures, great and small.
And all the boards did shrink;
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.
Of the spirit that plagued us so:
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.Part the Third
There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.
And then it seemed a mist:
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.
We could not laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered,
With broad and burning face.
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres!
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mare Life-In-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
And the twain were casting dice;
"The game is done! I've won! I've won!"
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea.
Off shot the spectre-bark.
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip--
Till clombe above the eastern bar
The hornèd moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my Cross-Bow!Part the Fourth
"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.
And thy skinny hand, so brown."--
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropt not down.
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
And they all dead did lie:
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came, and made
my heart as dry as dust.
And the balls like pulses beat;
For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.
And nowhere did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside.
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.Part the Fifth
Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.
I was so light--almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessèd ghost.
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The moon was at its edge.
The moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do:
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools--
We were a ghastly crew.
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me.
Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the Heavens be mute.
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid : and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion--
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two Voices in the air.
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low,
The harmless Albatross.
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow."
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, "The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do."Part the Sixth
First Voice
But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing--
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the Ocean doing?Second Voice
Still as a slave before his lord,
The Ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast--
For she guides him smooth or grim
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.First Voice
But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?Second Voice
The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.
Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the moon did glitter.
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.
I viewed the ocean green.
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen--
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.
Like a meadow-gale of spring--
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze--
On me alone it blew.
The light-house top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree!
And I with sobs did pray--
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck--
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light:
No voice did they impart--
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.Part the Seventh
This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.
"Why this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?"
"And they answered not our cheer!
The planks looked warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-top is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young."
(The Pilot made reply)
I am a-feared"--"Push on, push on!"
Said the Hermit cheerily.
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
"Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row."
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.
The Hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say--
What manner of man art thou?"
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemèd there to be.
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!--
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.
As for modern methods of tuna fishing these include using fishing lines up to 40 kilometres long. These
lines, towed by fishing boats, may have thousands of baited hooks. These hooks attract large seabirds,
such as the albatross, who become impaled and are dragged along until they die of drowning and
exhaustion. The tuna of course, die just as horribly when they themselves are caught by these lines.