“They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
  Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
  It had been strange, even in a dream,
  To have seen those dead men rise.

  “The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; 335
  Yet never a breeze up blew;
  The mariners all gan work[44] the ropes,
  Where they were wont to do;
  They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—­
  We were a ghastly crew. 340

  “The body of my brother’s son
  Stood by me, knee to knee: 
  The body and I pulled at one rope,
  But he said nought to me.”

  “I fear thee, ancient Mariner!” 345
  “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 dawned—­they dropped their arms, 350
  And clustered 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; 355
  Slowly the sounds came back again,
  Now mixed, now one by one.

  “Sometimes a-dropping from the sky[45]
  I heard the sky-lark sing;
  Sometimes all little birds that are, 360
  How they seemed to fill the sea and air
  With their sweet jargoning![46]

  “And now ’twas like all instruments,
  Now like a lonely flute;
  And now it is an angel’s song, 365
  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, 370
  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, 375
  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. 380
  The sails at noon left off their tune,
  And the ship stood still also.

  “The Sun, right up above the mast,
  Had fixed her to the ocean: 
  But in a minute she gan stir, 385
  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:  390
  It flung the blood into my head,
  And I fell down in a swound.[47]

  “How long in that same fit I lay,
  I have not to declare;
  But ere my living life returned, 395
  I heard, and in my soul discerned
  Two voices in the air.[48]