THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER. PART THE SIXTH. 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; 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, 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, The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward, faster than human life could endure. The super · natural mo tion is retarded; the Ma.. riner awakes, and his penance begins anew. The curse is finally expiated. The pang, the curse, with which they died, I could not draw my eyes from theirs, 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 turn'd 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 In ripple or in shade. the sea, It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring It mingled strangely with my fears, Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze- Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed 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, 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 angelic spirits leave the dead bodies, 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, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came. And appear in their own forms of light. A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were : I turned my eyes upon the deck— 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: |