Utdrag fra The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, av Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,Still hid in mist, and on the leftWent down into the sea.And I had done a hellish thing,And it would work ’em woe:For all averred, I had killed the birdThat made the breeze to blow.Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,That made the breeze to blow!‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner!I fear thy skinny hand!And thou art long, and lank, and brown,As is the ribbed sea-sand.
Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,And having once turned round walks on,And turns no more his head;Because he knows, a frightful fiendDoth close behind him tread.