Of pride and lordly beauty: her fair wing
Of sail is wounded--the proud pennon gone:
Dark, dark she sweepeth like an eagle, on
Through waters that are battling to and fro,
And tossing their great giant shrouds of snow
Over her deck. Ahead, and there is seen
A black, strange line of breakers, down between
The awful surges, lifting up their manes,
Like great sea lions. Quick and high she strains
Her foaming keel--that solitary ship!
As if, in all her frenzy, she would leap
The cursed barrier; forward, fast and fast--
Back, back she reels; her timbers and her mast
Split in a thousand shivers! A white spring
Of the exulted sea rose bantering
Over her ruin; and the mighty crew,
That mann'd her decks, were seen, a straggling few,
Far scatter'd on the surges. Julio felt
The impulse of that hour, and low he knelt,
Within his own light bark--a prayful man!
And clasp'd his lifeless bride; and to her wan,
Cold cheek did lay his melancholy brow.--
"Save thou a mariner!" He starteth now
To hear that dying cry; and there is one,
All worn and wave-wet, by his bark anon,
Clinging, in terror of the ireful sea,
A fair hair'd mariner! But suddenly
He saw the pale dead ladye, by a flame
Of blue and livid lightning, and there came
Over his features blindness, and the power