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It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.
Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.
The lonesome Under the keel nine fathom deep,
Spirit from the
From the land of mist and snow,
ries on the The spirit slid : and it was he
ship as far as
That made the ship to go. the Line, in obedience to The sails at noon left off their tune, the angelic
And the ship stood still also.
troop, but still
vengeance The Sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion-
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.
Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.
The Polar Spirit's fellow- How long in that same fit I lay,
dæmons, the invisible in. I have not to declare;
habitants of the element,
take part in his wrong; But ere my living life returned,
and two of them relate, I heard and in my soul discerned
ó one to the other, that
penance long heavy
Two voices in the air. for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the
“Is it he?" quoth one, “ Is this the man? Polar Spirit, who returneth southward
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.
“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,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, " The man hath penance done,
penance more will do."
“But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing-
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?”
Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast-
“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."
“But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?”
The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive north ward faster than human life could endure
“ The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.
“Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated :
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated."
I woke, and we were sailing on natural motion is retarded;
As in a gentle weather: the Mariner 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high, awakes, and
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.
pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.
The curse is finally expiated
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,
And turns no more his head;
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
Like a meadow-gale of spring-
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-
On me alone it blew.
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The light-house top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree?
And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray-
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn !
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the Moon.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.
And the bay was white with silent light
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.
The Angelic spirits leave the dead bodies,
A little distance from the
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck-
Oh, Christ ! what saw I there!
in their own
forms of light
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat.
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
This seraph-band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light;
This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart-
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.
But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.
The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.
I saw a third-I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.
This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.
He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.