‘The body of my brother’s son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pull’d at one rope, But he said nought to me.’
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner!’ ‘Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! ’Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: For when it dawn’d—they dropp’d their arms, And cluster’d round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed.
‘Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one.
‘Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seem’d to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning!
‘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 Singeth a quiet tune.
‘Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath.
Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune And the ship stood still also.
