 with a pilot and his boy, in a boat. And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; Fron the sails the dew did drip— Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. The argument belongs to the 1798 text only. Even though 's Rime of the Ancient Mariner is one of the most influential poems in the English language, it's still a doozy of a confusing read. . They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise.