| 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: | 420 |
| "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 | |
| "Withouten wave or wind? | |
| SECOND VOICE. | |
| "The air is cut away before, | |
"And closes from behind.
| 430 |
| "Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high, | |
| "Or we shall be belated: | |
| "For slow and slow that ship will go, | |
"When the Marinere'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: | 440 |
| 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 een from theirs | |
Ne turn them up to pray.
| |
| 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.
| 450 |
| Like one, that on a lonely 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 breath'd a wind on me, | |
| Ne sound ne motion made: | |
| Its path was not upon the sea | |
In ripple or in shade.
| 460 |
| It rais'd 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.
| |
| O dream of joy! is this indeed | |
| The light-house top I see? | 470 |
| Is this the Hill? Is this the Kirk? | |
Is this mine own countrée?
| |
| 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 smoothly it was strewn! | |
| And on the bay the moon light lay, | |
And the shadow of the moon.
| 480 |
| .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, | 490 |
| The bodies had advanc'd, and now | |
Before the mast they stood.
| |
| They lifted up their stiff right arms, | |
| They held them strait and tight; | |
| And each right-arm burnt like a torch, | |
| A torch that's borne upright. | |
| Their stony eye-balls glitter'd on | |
In the red and smoky light.
| |
| I pray'd and turn'd my head away | |
| Forth looking as before. | 500 |
| There was no breeze upon the bay, | |
No wave against the shore.
| |
| 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.
| 510 |
| A little distance from the prow | |
| Those crimson shadows were: | |
| I turn'd 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 wav'd his hand: | |
| It was a heavenly sight: | 520 |
| They stood as signals to the land, | |
Each one a lovely light:
| |
| This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand, | |
| No voice did they impart— | |
| No voice; but O! the silence sank, | |
Like music on my heart.
| |
| Eftsones I heard the dash of oars, | |
| I heard the pilot's cheer: | |
| My head was turn'd perforce away | |
And I saw a boat appear.
| 530 |
| Then vanish'd all the lovely lights; | |
| The bodies rose anew: | |
| With silent pace, each to his place, | |
| Came back the ghastly crew. | |
| The wind, that shade nor motion made, | |
On me alone it blew.
| |
| 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.
| 540 |
| 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 shrieve my soul, he'll wash away | |
| The Albatross's blood. | |