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.
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: