Classic Poem

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three--
In fact he coolly took my arm--
"There was a ship," quoth he.

"Bother your ships!" said I, "is this
The time a yarn to spin?
This is a wedding, don't you see,
And I am next of kin.

"The wedding breakfast has begun,
We're hungry as can be--
Hold off! Unhand me, longshore man!"
With that his hand dropt he.

But there was something in his eye,
That made me sick and ill,
Yet forced to listen to his yarn--
The Mariner'd had his will.

While Tom and Harry went their way
I sat upon a stone--
So queer on Fanny's wedding day
Me sitting there alone!

Then he began, that Mariner,
To rove from pole to pole,
In one long-winded, lengthened-out,
Eternal rigmarole,

About a ship in which he'd sailed,
Though whither, goodness knows,
Where "ice will split with a thunder-fit",
And every day it snows.

And then about a precious bird
Of some sort or another,
That--was such nonsense ever heard?--
Used to control the weather!

Now, at this bird the Mariner
Resolved to have a shy,
And laid it low with his cross-bow--
And then the larks! My eye!

For loss of that uncommon fowl,
They couldn't get a breeze;
And there they stuck, all out of luck,
And rotted on the seas.

The crew all died, or seemed to die,
And he was left alone
With that queer bird. You never heard
What games were carried on!

At last one day he stood and watched
The fishes in the sea,
And said, "I'm blest!" and so the ship
Was from the spell set free.

And it began to rain and blow,
And as it rained and blew,
The dead got up and worked the ship--
That was a likely crew!

However, somehow he escaped,
And got again to land,
But mad as any hatter, say,
From Cornhill to the Strand.

For he believes that certain folks
Are singled out by fate,
To whom this cock-and-bull affair
Of his he must relate.

Describing all the incidents,
And painting all the scenes,
As sailors will do in the tales
They tell to the Marines.

Confound the Ancient Mariner!
I knew I should be late;
And so it was; the wedding guests
Had all declined to wait.

Another had my place, and gave
My toast; and sister Fan
Said " 'Twas a shame. What could you want
With that seafaring man?"

I felt like one that had been stunned
Through all this wrong and scorn;
A sadder and later man
I rose the morrow morn.