Part VI
But tell me, tell me! speak again,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;His great bright eye most silentlyUp to the Moon is cast--
If he may know which way to go;For she guides him smooth or grimSee, brother, see! how graciouslyShe looketh down on him.
But why drives on that ship so fast,Without or wave or wind?
The air is cut away before,And closes from behind.
Fly, brother, fly! more high, more highOr we shall be belated:For slow and slow that ship will go,When the Mariner's trance is abated.
I woke, and we were sailing onAs in a gentle weather:'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,For a charnel-dungeon fitter: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,Nor turn them up to pray.
And now this spell was snapt: once moreI viewed the ocean green.And looked far forth, yet little sawOf what had else been seen--
Like one that on a lonesome roadDoth walk in fear and dread,And having once turned round walks on,And turns no more his head;Because he knows, a frightful fiendDoth 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.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheekLike a meadow-gale of spring--It mingled strangely with my fears,Yet it felt like a welcoming.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,Yet she sailed softly too:Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze--On me alone it blew.
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeedThe light-house top I see?Is this the hill? is this the kirk?Is this mine own countree!
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,And I with sobs did pray--O let me be awake, my God!Or let me sleep alway.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,So smoothly it was strewn!And on the bay the moonlight lay,And the shadow of the moon.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,That stands above the rock:The moonlight steeped in silentnessThe steady weathercock.
And the bay was white with silent light,Till rising from the same,Full many shapes, that shadows were,In crimson colours came.
A little distance from the prowThose crimson shadows were:I turned my eyes upon the deck--Oh, Christ! what saw I there!
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,And, by the holy rood!A man all light, a seraph-man,On every corse there stood.
This seraph band, each waved his hand:It was a heavenly sight!They stood as signals to the land,Each one a lovely light:
This seraph-band, each waved his hand,No voice did they impart--No voice; but oh! the silence sankLike music on my heart.
But soon I heard the dash of oars;I heard the Pilot's cheer;My head was turned perforce away,And I saw a boat appear.
The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy,I heard them coming fast:Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joyThe dead men could not blast.
I saw a third--I heard his voice:It is the Hermit good!He singeth loud his godly hymnsThat he makes in the wood.He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash awayThe Albatross's blood.
Words in this poem
- graciously adv.
- In a gracious manner; courteously; benignantly.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- belated a.
- Delayed beyond the usual time; too late; overtaken by night; benighted.
- fitter n.
- A little piece; a flitter; a flinder.
- lonesome a.
- Secluded from society; not frequented by human beings; solitary.
- frightful a.
- Full of fright; affrighted; frightened.
- strangely adv.
- As something foreign, or not one's own; in a manner adapted to something foreign and strange.
- kirk n.
- A church or the church, in the various senses of the word; esp., the Church of Scotland as distinguished from other reformed churches, or from the Roman Catholic Church. Jamieson. [Scot.; cf. Icel. kirkja, of Greek origin. See Church.]
- harbour n.
- A station for rest and entertainment; a place of security and comfort; a refuge; a shelter. [OE herbor, herberwe, herberge, Icel. herbergi (cf. OHG. heriberga), orig., a shelter for soldiers; herr army + bjarga to save, help, defend; akin to AS. here ar]
- silentness n.
- State of being silent; silence.
- corse n.
- A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
- rood n.
- A representation in sculpture or in painting of the cross with Christ hanging on it. [AS. rr, D. roede rod, G. ruthe, rute, OHG. ruota. CF. Rod a measure.]
- perforce v. t.
- To force; to compel.
- shrieve v. t.
- To shrive; to question.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Part VI is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Project Gutenberg ebook #151; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Part VI, in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1798, text of 1834), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #151, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/ancient-mariner/part-6.html, id L00179.
Form and metre
Part VI is 104 lines in 26 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is ABCB, complete in 22 of its 26 stanzas. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.2 syllables. 14 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 16% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in common measure.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABCB againA · renewingB · fastC · doingB
- 2 ABCB lordA · blastB · silentlyC · castB
- 3 ABCB goA · grimB · graciouslyC · himB
- 6 ABCB highA · belatedB · goC · abatedB
- 7 ABCB onA · weatherB · highC · togetherB
- 8 ABCB deckA · fitterB · eyesC · glitterB
- 9 ABCB diedA · awayB · theirsC · prayB
- 10 ABCB moreA · greenB · sawC · seenB
- 11 -A-A-A road · dreadA · on · headA · fiend · treadA
- 12 ABCB meA · madeB · seaC · shadeB
- 13 ABCB cheekA · springB · fearsC · welcomingB
- 14 ABCB shipA · tooB · breezeC · blewB
- 15 ABCB indeedA · seeB · kirkC · countreeB
- 16 ABCB barA · prayB · godC · alwayB
- 17 ABCB glassA · strewnB · layC · moonB
- 18 ABCB lessA · rockB · silentnessC · weathercockB
- 19 ABCB lightA · sameB · wereC · cameB
- 20 ABCB prowA · wereB · deckC · thereB
- 21 ABCB flatA · roodB · manC · stoodB
- 22 ABCB handA · sightB · landC · lightB
- 23 ABCB handA · impartB · sankC · heartB
- 24 ABCB oarsA · cheerB · awayC · appearB
- 25 ABCB boyA · fastB · joyC · blastB
- 26 -A-A-A voice · goodA · hymns · woodA · away · bloodA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| But tell me, tell me! speak again, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Thy soft response renewing-- | 7 | ··˘/˘/˘ |
| What makes that ship drive on so fast? | 8 | ········ |
| What is the OCEAN doing? | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Still as a slave before his lord, | 8 | ········ |
| The OCEAN hath no blast; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| His great bright eye most silently | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Up to the Moon is cast-- | 6 | ······ |
| If he may know which way to go; | 8 | ········ |
| For she guides him smooth or grim | 7 | ······· |
| See, brother, see! how graciously | 8 | ·/˘··/˘˘ |
| She looketh down on him. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| But why drives on that ship so fast, | 8 | ········ |
| Without or wave or wind? | 6 | ······ |
| The air is cut away before, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| And closes from behind. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Or we shall be belated: | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
| For slow and slow that ship will go, | 8 | ········ |
| When the Mariner's trance is abated. | 9 | ··/˘··˘/˘ |
| I woke, and we were sailing on | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| As in a gentle weather: | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| 'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; | 8 | ········ |
| The dead men stood together. | 7 | ····˘/˘ |
| All stood together on the deck, | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| For a charnel-dungeon fitter: | 8 | ··/˘/˘/˘ |
| All fixed on me their stony eyes, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That in the Moon did glitter. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| The pang, the curse, with which they died, | 8 | ········ |
| Had never passed away: | 7 | ·/˘·˘˘/ |
| I could not draw my eyes from theirs, | 8 | ········ |
| Nor turn them up to pray. | 6 | ······ |
| And now this spell was snapt: once more | 8 | ········ |
| I viewed the ocean green. | 7 | ··˘·/˘· |
| And looked far forth, yet little saw | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Of what had else been seen-- | 6 | ······ |
| Like one that on a lonesome road | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Doth walk in fear and dread, | 6 | ······ |
| And having once turned round walks on, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And turns no more his head; | 6 | ······ |
| Because he knows, a frightful fiend | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Doth close behind him tread. | 6 | ······ |
| But soon there breathed a wind on me, | 8 | ········ |
| Nor sound nor motion made: | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Its path was not upon the sea, | 8 | ········ |
| In ripple or in shade. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek | 8 | ········ |
| Like a meadow-gale of spring-- | 7 | ··/···· |
| It mingled strangely with my fears, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Yet it felt like a welcoming. | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, | 7 | /˘/˘··· |
| Yet she sailed softly too: | 7 | ···˘/˘· |
| Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-- | 7 | /˘/˘··· |
| On me alone it blew. | 6 | ··˘/·· |
| Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The light-house top I see? | 6 | ······ |
| Is this the hill? is this the kirk? | 8 | ········ |
| Is this mine own countree! | 6 | ······ |
| We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And I with sobs did pray-- | 6 | ······ |
| O let me be awake, my God! | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Or let me sleep alway. | 6 | ····/˘ |
| The harbour-bay was clear as glass, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| So smoothly it was strewn! | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| And on the bay the moonlight lay, | 8 | ·····/·· |
| And the shadow of the moon. | 7 | ··/···· |
| The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, | 8 | ········ |
| That stands above the rock: | 6 | ······ |
| The moonlight steeped in silentness | 8 | ·/···/˘˘ |
| The steady weathercock. | 6 | ·/˘/˘˘ |
| And the bay was white with silent light, | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Till rising from the same, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Full many shapes, that shadows were, | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| In crimson colours came. | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| A little distance from the prow | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| Those crimson shadows were: | 6 | ·/˘/·· |
| I turned my eyes upon the deck-- | 8 | ········ |
| Oh, Christ! what saw I there! | 6 | ······ |
| Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| And, by the holy rood! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| A man all light, a seraph-man, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| On every corse there stood. | 7 | ·/˘˘··· |
| This seraph band, each waved his hand: | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| It was a heavenly sight! | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| They stood as signals to the land, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Each one a lovely light: | 6 | ···/˘· |
| This seraph-band, each waved his hand, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| No voice did they impart-- | 6 | ····˘/ |
| No voice; but oh! the silence sank | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Like music on my heart. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| But soon I heard the dash of oars; | 8 | ········ |
| I heard the Pilot's cheer; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| My head was turned perforce away, | 8 | ····˘/˘/ |
| And I saw a boat appear. | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| I heard them coming fast: | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy | 8 | ···/···· |
| The dead men could not blast. | 6 | ······ |
| I saw a third--I heard his voice: | 8 | ········ |
| It is the Hermit good! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| He singeth loud his godly hymns | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| That he makes in the wood. | 6 | ······ |
| He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The Albatross's blood. | 6 | ·/˘·˘· |
Notes from the edition 7
Marginal gloss by Coleridge (1817); notes by Frederick H. Sykes, Coleridge's Ancient Mariner and Select Poems (Scribner, c. 1908).
- Stanza 2, line 3 His great bright eye, etc. Dorothy Wordsworth in her Journal, February 27, 1798, describes the look of the sea by moonlight, "big and white, swelled to the very shores, but round and high in the middle."
- Stanza 4 Gloss: The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure.
- Stanza 7 Gloss: The supernatural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.
- Stanza 10 Gloss: The curse is finally expiated.
- Stanza 15 Gloss: And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.
- Stanza 20 Gloss: And appear in their own forms of light.
- Stanza 26, line 5 shrieve. To hear confession and pronounce absolution, one of the duties of the priesthood in the Catholic church. The word is more often spelled shrive. Shrift is the abstract noun derived from it.
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