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:
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.
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, When the Mariners 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.
The super-natural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.
All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixd on me their stony eyes, That
in the Moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passd away: I could not draw my eyes
from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray.
And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And lookd far forth, yet
little saw Of what had else been seen
The curse is finally expiated.
Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turnd 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.
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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