(b) No poet has ever excelled Coleridge in witchery of language. His is the song the sirens sang. The Ancient Mariner has more than one passage like the following:
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