He heareth sounds and The bodies of the ship's crew are inspired, and the ship moves on; My lips were wet, my throat was cold, Sure I had drunken in my dreams, I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I thought that I had died in sleep, And soon I heard a roaring wind: But with its sound it shook the sails, The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, The loud wind never reached the ship, Beneath the lightning and the Moon They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, They raised their limbs like lifeless tools- "I fear thee, ancient Mariner!" Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: But not by the souls of the men, nor by dæmons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of an gelic spirits, For when it dawned-they dropped their arms, sent down by And clustered round the mast; the invocation of the guard Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, ian saint Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. The lonesome Spirit from the south-pole carries on the ship as far as the Line, in obedience to the angelic troop, but still requireth vengeance It ceased; yet still the sails made on A noise like of a hidden brook That to the sleeping woods all night Till noon we quietly sailed on, Under the keel nine fathom deep, The spirit slid: and it was he The sails at noon left off their tune, The Sun, right up above the mast, Backwards and forwards half her length Then like a pawing horse let go, The Polar Spirit's fellowdæmons, the invisible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the Polar Spirit, who returneth southward How long in that same fit I lay, But ere my living life returned, “ Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man? With his cruel bow he laid full low "The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow." The other was a softer voice, ८८ Quoth he, The man hath penance done, PART VI FIRST VOICE "But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing What makes that ship drive on so fast? SECOND VOICE "Still as a slave before his lord, His great bright eye most silently If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him." FIRST VOICE 66 But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?" SECOND VOICE The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive north. "The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. ward faster than human life could The supernatural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew The curse is finally expiated 66 Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! For slow and slow that ship will go, I woke, and we were sailing on 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high, All stood together on the deck, The pang, the curse, with which they died, I could not draw my eyes from theirs, And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek |