Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'
'God save thee, ancient Mariner!
- From the fiends, that plague thee thus!\97-
- Why look'st thou so?'\97-With my cross-bow
+ From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
+ Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
=head2 v5.26.0 - Nine Simone, Ain't Got No / I Got Life
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
- Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken\97-
+ Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—
The ice was all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,