It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din.
He holds him with his skinny hand,
There was a ship, quoth he.
Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.
He holds him with his glittering eye—
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