Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot – Oh Christ! That ever this should be. Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs, Upon the slimy sea. From the Rime of the Ancient Mariner Samuel Taylor...

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