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.

But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without or wave or wind?

The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive north

ward faster than human life could endure.

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

The curse is finally expiated.

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 fix'd on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never pass'd away :

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

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 in its time the spell was snapt,
And I could move my een:

I look'd far-forth, but little saw
Of what might else be seen.-1798.

+ Lonely-lb.

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 the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring-
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-
On me alone it blew.

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 smoothy it was strewn !

And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.

And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.

[The moonlight bay was white all o'er
Till rising from the same

Full many shapes, that shadows were,
Like as of torches came.

A little distance from the prow
Those dark-red shadows were;
But soon I saw that my own flesh
Was red as in a glare.

I turn'd my head in fear and dread,
And by the holy rood

The bodies had advanced, and now
Before the mast they stood.

They lifted up their stiff right arms,
They held them straight and tight;
And each right-arm burnt like a torch,
A torch that's borne upright.
Their stony eyeballs glitter'd on
In the red and smoky light.

I pray'd and turn'd my head away

Forth looking as before.

There was no breeze upon the bay,

No wave against the shore.]*

*The above five stanzas are only in the edition of 1798.-ED.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock :

The moonlight steep'd in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were :
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck—
Oh, 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 oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot's cheer;

The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies,

And appear in their own forms of light.