"Rime of the Ancient Mariner"
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moon-shine."

"God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!--
Why look'st thou so?"--"With my cross-bow
I shot the Albatross.

 
 
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