"Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe;
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

“Under the keel, nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow
The spirit slid; and it was he
That made the ship to go.

The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.

The sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean;

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.

But in a minute she 'gan stir,

With a short uneasy motion

Backwards and forwards half her length,

With a short uneasy motion.

'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?
What is the ocean doing?'

SECOND VOICE.

"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.'

FIRST VOICE.

The Mariner "But why drives on that ship so fast,

hath been cast

into a trance; Without or wave or wind?'

for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive

northward fas

ter than hu

SECOND VOICE.

man life could "The air is cut away before,

endure.

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,
Nor turn them up to pray.

"And now this spell was snapped; 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.

The supernatural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.

The curse is finally expiated.

"Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too;

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-
On me alone it blew.

And the An- "Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

cient Mariner

beholdeth his The lighthouse top I see?

native coun

try.

The angelic

Is this the hill? is this the kirk ?

Is this mine own countree?

"We drifted o'er the harbor-bar,
And I with sobs did pray—

O, let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway !

"The harbor-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,

spirits leave Full many shapes, that shadows were,

the dead bod. ies,

In crimson colors came.

And appear in their own

A little distance from the prow

forms of light. Those crimson shadows were ;

I turned my eyes upon the deck—
O Christ! what saw I there?

"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 O! 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 shrive my soul-he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.

PART VII.

"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,
He hath a cushion plump;
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.

and eve

The hermit of the wood