The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.'
'But tell me, tell me! speak again, 410 Thy soft response renewing-- What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?'
'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; 415 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 420 She looketh down on him.'
[Sidenote: The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure.]
'But why drives on that ship so fast? Without or wave or wind?'
'The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. 425
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.
[Sidenote: The supernatural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.]
I woke, and we were sailing on 430 As in a gentle weather: 'T was night, calm night, the moon was high, The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: 435 All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the Moon did glitter.
The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, 440 Nor turn them up to pray.
[Sidenote: The curse is finally expiated.]
And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen-- 445
Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful fiend 450 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. 455
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring-- It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, 460 Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-- On me alone it blew.
[Sidenote: And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.]