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. What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there:      But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are:      And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea:      So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage-feast,      'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!—       To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us He made and loveth all. The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn:      A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. 

   

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