PART V.
Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, 295 That slid into my soul.
[Sidenote: By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain.] The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained.

300 My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank.
I moved, and could not feel my limbs: 305 I was so light--almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.
[Sidenote: He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the element.] And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; 310 But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere.
The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! 315 And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between.
And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; 320 The Moon was at its edge.
The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side.
Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, 325 A river steep and wide.
[Sidenote: The bodies of the ship's crew are inspired, and the ship moves on;] The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan.

330 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 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." [Sidenote: But not by the souls of the men, nor by daemons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, sent down by the invocation of the guardian saint.] "I fear thee, ancient Mariner!" 345 "Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'T was 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, And clustered round the mast; 350 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 I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, 350 How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 't was 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.
[Sidenote: The lonesome Spirit from the south-pole carries on the ship as far as the Line, in obedience to the angelic troop, but still requireth vengeance.] 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.
[Sidenote: The Polar Spirit's fellow-daemons, the invisible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the Polar Spirit, who returneth southward.] 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.
'Is it he ?' quoth one, 'Is this the man?
By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low 400 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 ?' 405 The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.'.