180 THE WHALE AND 



Fact the Ground of Fancy. Not an Improbability. 



years previous to the time of his discovering 

 her imprisoned in the ice. 



If this strange tale be true, we see that Cole- 

 ridge's wonderful Rime of the Ancient Mari- 

 ner may not be all fancy, but may have a sub- 

 stantial basis of fact. Witness the following 

 verses, eliminated from it here and there : 



And now there came both mist and enow, 



And it grew wondrous cold ; 

 And ice, mast high, came floating by, 



As green as emerald. 



And through the drifts the snowy clifts 



Did send a dismal sheen ; 

 Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken 



The ice was all between. 



The ice was here, the ice was there, 



The ice was all around ; 

 It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, 



Like noises in a swound ! 



Alone, alone, all, all alone, 



Alone on a wide, wide sea ! 

 And never a saint took pity on 



My soul in agony. 



I closed my lips, and kept them close, 



And the balls like pulses beat ; 

 For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, 

 Lay like a load on my weary eye, 



And the dead were at my feet. 



The cold sweat melted from their limbs, 



Nor rot nor reck did they : 

 The look with which they looked on me 



Had never passed away. 



