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 reach'd the Ship, They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose, It had been strange, even in a dream The helmsman steer'd, the ship mov'd on; Yet never a breeze up-blew; The Mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do: They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son The body and I pull'd at one rope, "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 thro' their mouths And from their bodies pass'd. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun : Slowly the sounds came back again Now mix'd, now one by one. Sometimes a dropping from the sky Sometimes all little birds that are How they seem'd to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning. And now 'twas like all instruments, And now it is an angel's song That makes the heavens be mute. It ceas'd 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 silently sail'd on Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the Ship Under the keel nine fathom deep The spirit slid and it was He That made the Ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune The sun right up above the mast But in a minute she 'gan stir With a short uneasy motionBackwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then, like a pawing horse let go, It flung the blood into my head, How long in that same fit I lay, But ere my living life return'd, I heard and in my soul discern'd Two voices in the air. "Is it he?" quoth one, "Is this the man? "By him who died on cross, "With his cruel bow he lay'd full low "The harmless Albatross. "The spirit who 'bideth by himself "In the land of mist and snow, "He lov'd the bird that lov'd the man "Who shot him with his bow." |