The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – Part 6 Summary

Stanza 1: First Voice asks about the ship's rapid movement

But tell me, tell me! speak again, / Thy soft response renewing— / What makes that ship drive on so fast? / What is the ocean doing?

The First Voice continues the conversation with the Second Voice. The First Voice asks the Second Voice to speak again and answer his questions. He wants to understand the mystery of the ship's rapid movement.

The First Voice asks what force is making the ship move forward so quickly. He also asks what is happening with the ocean. These questions show the supernatural nature of the ship's journey—normal physical laws do not seem to apply.

Stanza 2: Second Voice explains the ocean is still and looks to the moon

Still as a slave before his lord, / The ocean hath no blast; / His great bright eye most silently / Up to the Moon is cast—

The Second Voice explains that the ocean is completely still and calm, like a slave obeys his master without resistance. There is no wind or blast of air on the ocean's surface.

The ocean is described as having a "great bright eye" that looks silently up toward the moon. This personification suggests that the ocean itself is aware and conscious, watching the moon and taking guidance from it.

Stanza 3: The moon guides the ocean graciously

If he may know which way to go; / For she guides him smooth or grim. / See, brother, see! how graciously / She looketh down on him.

The Second Voice explains that the ocean looks to the moon to know which direction to move. The moon guides the ocean, making it smooth or rough depending on her will.

The Second Voice calls attention to the moon's gracious and kind appearance as she looks down upon the ocean. The moon is shown as a benevolent force, guiding the ocean and controlling the ship's movement.

Stanza 4: First Voice asks why the ship moves without wind

'But why drives on that ship so fast, / Without or wave or wind?'

The First Voice continues to ask questions, seeking explanation for the supernatural movement of the ship.

He repeats his question about why the ship moves without wind or waves to push it forward. The First Voice seems troubled by this mystery.

Stanza 5: Second Voice: air is cut away before and closes behind

The air is cut away before, / And closes from behind.

The Second Voice begins to answer this question. He explains that the air ahead of the ship is being cut away or pushed aside.

The air that closes behind the ship helps propel it forward. This describes a supernatural force that controls the very air around the ship.

Stanza 6: Second Voice urges speed; ship will slow when Mariner's trance ends

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.

The Second Voice tells the First Voice that they must hurry upward to a higher place. They risk being delayed or left behind if they do not move quickly.

The Second Voice explains that the ship will slow down when the Mariner's trance (unconscious state) ends. As long as the Mariner is unconscious, the spirits can move the ship quickly. Once he awakens, the miraculous speed will diminish.

Stanza 7: Mariner awakens in calm weather; dead men stand together

I woke, and we were sailing on / As in a gentle weather: / 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high; / The dead men stood together.

The Mariner awakens from his unconscious state. When he wakes, the ship is sailing in gentle, calm weather. It is night, and the moon shines brightly in the sky.

As predicted by the Second Voice, the ship is no longer moving at supernatural speed. The dead crew members now stand together on the deck, their bodies still reanimated by the spirits.

Stanza 8: Dead men stare with stony, glittering eyes

All stood together on the deck, / For a charnel-dungeon fitter: / All fixed on me their stony eyes, / That in the Moon did glitter.

All the dead bodies stand together on the ship's deck. The deck becomes more suitable for a charnel-dungeon (a place where dead bodies are stored) than a living ship.

All the dead sailors look directly at the Mariner with eyes as hard and lifeless as stone. The moonlight reflects in their eyes, creating a terrible and ghostly appearance.

Stanza 9: The curse in their eyes prevents the Mariner from praying

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.

The terrible curse and agony with which the crew members died has not left them. The dead men continue to express their pain and curse through their stony eyes.

The Mariner cannot look away from their accusing eyes. He cannot turn his eyes upward to heaven to pray. He is frozen under the curse of their gaze.

Stanza 10: The spell breaks; Mariner looks at the ocean but sees little

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—

Suddenly, the spell that bound the Mariner to the dead men's eyes is broken. He is able to look away from their terrible gaze.

The Mariner can now look at the green ocean and look out across the water. However, even though he looks far out, he sees very little compared to what he had seen before. His vision is limited.

Stanza 11: Mariner like a man afraid of a fiend behind him

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 / Doth close behind him tread.

The Mariner's behavior is compared to a person walking alone on a lonely road at night, filled with fear and dread. This person turns around once to look, perhaps to see if danger is following them.

Once the person has looked back, they continue walking forward and never turn their head to look back again. They know that a frightful fiend (a terrible creature) is walking close behind them, ready to strike.

Similarly, the Mariner will not turn his head to look back at the dead crew members. He is afraid of what they might do. He walks forward like someone pursued by evil, afraid to look back but aware of the danger behind him.

Stanza 12: A silent, invisible wind touches the Mariner

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.

A gentle wind begins to blow on the Mariner, but it makes no sound and causes no visible motion. This is a supernatural wind that exists but cannot be heard or seen.

The wind does not follow the normal path of wind—it does not create ripples on the water's surface, and it does not cast shadows or move things visibly. It is a silent, invisible wind.

Stanza 13: The wind feels like a spring breeze and a welcoming

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.

The mysterious wind raises the Mariner's hair and gently fans his cheek. The wind feels like a soft spring breeze from a meadow, pleasant and refreshing.

The wind combines strangely with the Mariner's fears and anxieties, yet at the same time it feels like a welcoming greeting. The wind seems to bring both comfort and an approach from something or someone.

Stanza 14: Ship moves swiftly but softly; breeze blows on Mariner alone

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, / Yet she sailed softly too: / Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze— / On me alone it blew.

The ship suddenly begins to move swiftly and quickly through the water, but at the same time it sails gently and softly. The contradictory descriptions suggest supernatural movement.

A sweet breeze blows on the Mariner, but this breeze blows only on him and not on the rest of the ship or crew. The wind is personalized and seems meant especially for the Mariner.

Stanza 15: Mariner sees lighthouse, hill, and church—his homeland

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed / The light-house top I see? / Is this the hill? is this the kirk? / Is this mine own countree?

The Mariner begins to recognize the landscape around him. He sees what appears to be a lighthouse, a hill, and a church—all landmarks from his own country.

The Mariner questions whether this is truly real or just a wonderful dream. He wonders if these are really the features of his home country. His excitement is mixed with disbelief.

Stanza 16: Ship drifts over harbor bar; Mariner prays with sobs

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 ship drifts across the bar at the entrance to the harbor of the Mariner's home. The Mariner prays with sobs and tears, speaking with deep emotion.

He prays that if this is real, he should wake and be fully conscious. If it is just a dream, he asks to sleep forever rather than wake to find it was not real. The uncertainty torments him.

Stanza 17: Harbor bay clear as glass; moonlight shines

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 harbor bay is beautifully calm, like clear glass. The water's surface is smooth and peaceful. The moonlight falls directly on the water, creating a mirror-like reflection.

The shadow of the moon is also visible on the water, doubling the moon's presence. The scene is extraordinarily beautiful and peaceful, as if nature itself is welcoming the Mariner home.

Stanza 18: Rock and kirk shine bright; moonlight falls silently

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, / That stands above the rock: / The moonlight steeped in silentness / The steady weathercock.

The rocks near the shore shine brightly in the moonlight. The church (kirk) stands on the hill above the rocks, and it too shines bright.

The moonlight falls on everything in perfect silence. Even the weathercock (a weather vane on top of a building) is illuminated and stands still. Everything is peaceful and silent.

Stanza 19: Bay white with silent light; crimson shadow shapes rise

And the bay was white with silent light, / Till rising from the same, / Full many shapes, that shadows were, / In crimson colours came.

The entire bay glows white with the silent moonlight. From the water's surface, many shapes begin to rise that appear to be shadows.

These shadow shapes are colored crimson (deep red), a supernatural and ominous color. These are likely the spirits that have been guiding and controlling the ship.

Stanza 20: Mariner turns to look at deck; sees something shocking

A little distance from the prow / Those crimson shadows were: / I turned my eyes upon the deck— / Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

The crimson shadow shapes hover a little distance from the front of the ship. The Mariner turns his eyes to look at the deck of his own ship.

The Mariner sees something that shocks him deeply. He cries out "Oh, Christ!" suggesting that what he sees is shocking and wonderful or terrifying.

Stanza 21: Dead bodies lie flat with angels (seraphs) standing on each

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, / And, by the holy rood! / A man all light, a seraph-man, / On every corse there stood.

Each of the dead bodies lies flat on the deck, lifeless and motionless. The Mariner swears by the holy cross (rood).

Standing on top of each dead body is a seraph (an angel), described as "a man all light." Each corpse has a glowing angel standing above it. These are divine beings welcoming the Mariner home.

Stanza 22: Seraphs wave hands as signals to the land

This seraph-band, each waved his hand: / It was a heavenly sight! / They stood as signals to the land, / Each one a lovely light;

Each of the seraphs (angels) waves his hand in greeting or blessing. The sight of these heavenly beings is beautiful and awe-inspiring.

The seraphs stand as signals to the land—they communicate with the shore, perhaps welcoming the ship. Each angel shines as a lovely light, illuminating the darkness.

Stanza 23: Seraphs make no sound but silence falls like music on heart

This seraph-band, each waved his hand, / No voice did they impart— / No voice; but oh! the silence sank / Like music on my heart.

The seraphs continue to wave their hands, but they do not speak. No voice comes from them, no words are heard. The repetition emphasizes the silence.

Yet the silence is not empty or frightening—it is musical and beautiful. The silence falls on the Mariner's heart like beautiful music, touching him deeply and healing his wounded soul.

Stanza 24: Sound of oars; Pilot's voice heard; boat appears

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 Mariner hears the sound of oars splashing in the water and a cheerful greeting from the Pilot. Real, living people are approaching the ship.

The Mariner's head is turned away involuntarily, and he sees a boat approaching. The return of ordinary human contact is about to break the spell of the supernatural events.

Stanza 25: Pilot and Pilot's boy approach; joy the dead cannot destroy

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, / I heard them coming fast: / Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy / The dead men could not blast.

The Mariner hears the Pilot and the Pilot's boy (a young assistant) approaching rapidly. The Mariner cries out to the Lord with joy.

The appearance of these living people brings a joy that even the curse of the dead men cannot destroy. The presence of the living overrides the presence of the dead.

Stanza 26: Hermit appears; will shrieve soul and wash away albatross's blood

I saw a third—I heard his voice: / It is the Hermit good! / He singeth loud his godly hymns / That he makes in the wood. / He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away / The Albatross's blood.

The Mariner sees a third person approaching and recognizes his voice. It is the Hermit, a holy man who lives in the nearby woods.

The Hermit sings loud hymns and religious songs that he has composed in the forest. The Mariner realizes that the Hermit can absolve him of his sin and wash away the guilt of killing the albatross.

The Hermit represents spiritual salvation and redemption. His presence promises that the Mariner's soul will be forgiven and cleansed of the guilt that has tormented him throughout his voyage.