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The body of my brother's son
Stood by me knee to knee:
The body and I pull'd at one rope,
But he said nought to me.
"I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
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 dawn'd—they dropp'd their arms,
And cluster'd round the mast:
Sweet sounds rose slowly thro' their mouths
And from their bodies pass'd.
Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again
Now mix'd, now one by one.
