I really enjoyed this poem. I can't explain why the Mariner would kill the albatross, and I think Coleridge made that part of the poem very quick and short to leave us confused. That the other sailors flip-flop their opinions of the killing depending on their current state of fortune is a fairly bleak perspective on humanity that I somehow enjoy. Really the whole tone of the story and its dark imagery are things that I take a macabre delight in.
His curse to live instead of die,
and wander with his tale,
is the best part of all, says I
and turns my sister pale.
No, I cannot explain why I just did that.
Some of My Favorite Bits
`God save thee, ancient Mariner !
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!--
Why look'st thou so ?'--With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe :
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch ! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow !
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist :
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion ;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink ;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot : O Christ !
That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.
Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold :
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.
Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns :
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.
I pass, like 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.
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