Like waters shot from some high crag, The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose, It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The bodies of the ship's crew are inspirited, and the ship moves on; 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 We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me. But not by the souls of the men, nor by dæmons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, sent down by the invocation of the guar dian saint. "I fear thee, ancient Mariner !" Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, For when it dawned-they dropped their arms, And clustered 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, How they seem'd to fill the sea and air 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, Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Under the keel nine fathom deep, The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. 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. The Sun, right up above the mast, But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion Backwards and forwards half her length, Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, The PolarSpi- How long in that same fit I lay, rit's fellow dæmons, the invisible in habitants 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 accord ed to the I have not to declare; But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discerned "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. Polar Spirit, who returneth southward. |