曲终（2）

     
     
     
      曲终（2）
     
      His eyes went to and fro.
     
      “Ha ! ha !” quoth he, “full pcomin I see
     
      The Devil knows how to row.”
     
      And now, all in my own countree,
     
      I stood on the firm comnd !
     
      The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
     
      And scarcely he could stand.
     
      “O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man !”
     
      The Hermit crossed his brow.
     
      “Say quick,” quoth he,“I bid thee say—
     
      What manner of man art thou ?”
     
      Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
     
      With a woful agony,
     
      Which forced me to begin my tale ;
     
      And then it left me free.
     
      Since then, at an uncertain hour,
     
      That agony returns :
     
      And till my ghastly tale is told,
     
      This heart within me burns.
     
      I pass, like night, from comnd to comnd ;
     
      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.
     
      What loud uproar bursts from that door !
     
      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 !
     
      O Wedding-Guest ! this soul hath been
     
      Alone on a wide wide sea :
     
      So lonely ,twas, that God himself
     
      Scarce seem′ed there to be.
     
      O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
     
      ,Tis sweeter far to me,
     
      To walk together to the kirk
     
      With a goodly company !—
     
      To walk together to the kirk,
     
      And all together pray,
     
      While each to his great Father bends,
     
      Old men, and babes, and loving friends
     
      And youths and maidens gay !
     
      Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell
     
      To thee, thou Wedding-Guest !
     
      He prayeth well, who loveth well
     
      Both man and bird and beast.
     
      He prayeth best, who loveth best
     
      All things both great and small ;
     
      For the dear God who loveth us,
     
      He made and loveth all.
     
      The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
     
      Whose beard with age is hoar,
     
      Is gone : and now the Wedding-Guest
     
      Turned from the bridegroom's door.
     
      He went like one that hath been stunned,
     
      And is of sense forlorn :
     
      A sadder and a wiser man,
     
      He rose the morrow morn.
     
      [end]