And after, he did strain her sea-wet hair
    Between his chilly fingers, with a stare
    Of mystery, that marvell’d how that she
    Had drench’d it so amid the moonlit sea. 
    The morning rose, with breast of living gold,
    Like eastern phoenix, and his plumage roll’d
    In clouds of molted brilliance, very bright! 
    And on the waste of waters floated light.—­

    In truth, ’twas strange to see that merry bark
    Skimming the silver ocean, like a shark
    At play amid the beautiful sea-green,
    And all so sadly desolate within.

    And hours flew after hours, a weary length,
    Until the sunlight, in meridian strength,
    Threw burning floods upon the wasted brow
    Of that sea-hermit mariner; and now
    He felt the fire-light feed upon his brain,
    And started with intensity of pain,
    And wash’d him in the sea; it only brought
    Wild reason, like a demon, and he thought
    Strange thoughts, like dreaming men—­he thought how those
    Were round him he had seen, and many rose
    His heart had hated; every billow threw
    Features before him, and pale faces grew
    Out of the sea by myriads:—­the self-same
    Was moulded from its image, and they came
    In groups together, and all said, like one,
    “Be cursed!” and vanish’d in the deep anon. 
    Then thirst, intolerable as the breath
    Of Upas, fanning the wild wings of death,
    Crept up his very gorge,—­like to a snake,
    That stifled him, and bade the pulses ache
    Through all the boiling current of his blood. 
    It was a thirst, that let the fever flood
    Fall over him, and gave a ghastly hue
    To his cramp’d lips, until their breathing grew
    White as a mist, and short, and like a sigh,
    Heaved with a struggle, till it falter’d by.

    And ever he did look upon the corse
    With idiot visage, like the hag Remorse
    That gloateth over on a nameless deed
    Of darkness and of dole unhistoried. 
    And were there that might hear him, they would hear
    The murmur of a prayer in deep fear,
    Through unbarr’d lips, escaping by the half,
    And all but smother’d by a maniac laugh,
    That follow’d it, so sudden and so shrill,
    That swarms of sea-birds, wandering at will
    Upon the wave, rose startled, and away
    Went flocking, like a silver shower of spray! 
    And aye he called for water, and the sea
    Mock’d him with his brine surges tauntingly,
    And lash’d them over on his fev’rous brow,
    Volleying roars of curses:—­“Stay thee, now,
    Avenger! lest I die; for I am worn
    Fainter than star-light at the birth of morn;
    Stay thee, great angel! for I am not shriven,
    But frantic as thyself:  Oh Heaven!  Heaven! 
    But thou hast made me brother of the sea,