'The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew ; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes Where they were wont to do ; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools-- 'The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee : The body and I pull'd at one rope, But he said nought to me.' '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 : For when it dawn'd-they dropp'd their arms, And cluster'd round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed. '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 Sometimes all little birds that are, With their sweet jargoning! '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. '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 'Till noon we quietly sailed on, 'Under the keel nine fathom deep, The sails at noon left off their tune, 'The Sun, right up above the mast But in a minute she 'gan stir, Backwards and forwards half her length 'Then like a pawing horse let go, 'How long in that same fit I lay, But ere my living life returned, ""Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man? 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, And penance more will do."" 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; First Voice ""But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?" Second Voice "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 As in a gentle weather : 'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; 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. 'The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away : I could not draw my eyes from theirs, 'And now this spell was snapt : once more I view'd the ocean green, And look'd 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 'But soon there breathed a wind on me Its path was not upon the sea, ‘It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek 'Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze- '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? '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, ' And the bay was white with silent light Till, rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, 'A little distance from the prow 'Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, 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, My head was turn'd perforce away, The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy, " I saw a third-I heard his voice : It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away |