The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; 120 Water, water, every where Nor any drop to drink.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on the wide, wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

He singeth loud his godly hymns 510 That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.

He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; 615 For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all."

Stop, Christian passer-by!—Stop, child of God, And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seemed he.— O, lift one thought in prayer for S.T.C.; That he who many a year with toil of breath 5 Found death in life, may here find life in death! Mercy for praise—to be forgiven for fame He ask'd, and hoped, through Christ. Do thou the same!