‘The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean; But in a minute she ’gan stir, With a short uneasy motion— Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion.
‘Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
‘How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare; But ere my living life returned, I heard, and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air.
‘“Is it he?” quoth one, “Is this the man? By Him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross.
’“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.”