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
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years child:
The Mariner hath his will.