WATERFALLS

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

And now, all in my own country,




I stood on the firm land!




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 woeful 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 land to land;






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.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I dedicate this poem, to all the unknown followers of Confessions of a Farm Boy who have silently been following this blog and appreciating the beauty of Negros Island. Thank you.