Stephen's and detaineth one.]
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
"By thy scant gray looks and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?"
"St. Stephen's doors are open wide,
My duty lies within;
M.P.'s are met, the programme's set,
May'st hear the Irish din."
He holds him with his sinewy hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold off! unhand me, Ancient One!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
[Sidenote: St. Stephen's Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the Grand
Old Seafaring Man, and constrained to hear his tale.]
He holds him with his glittering eye--
St. Stephen's Guest stands still,
And listens, like Midlothian's mob.
The Mariner hath his will.
St. Stephen's Guest stands like a stone.
He cannot chuse but hear;
And thus outspeaks that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
Our ship was cheered, the harbour cleared
Merrily did we drop
Below the Kirk, Tory ill-will
Our vessel might not stop.
[Sidenote: The Mariner tells how his new-launched Craft, after some
adverse gales, sailed northward, with a good wind, and fair weather.
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