With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the coat-tail of his foe And feeleth for his head, The Ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And Winterward we fled. [Sidenote: Till a great lolloping, hindering, inopportune sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality--by our opponents. And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of ill-omen, impeding the progress of the Ship in most aggravating fashion.] At length did cross an Albatross: Through fog and frost it came; A noisy, rude, Obstructive bird; Devoid of sense or shame. Day after day it blocked our way, As round and round it flew. In spite of it, by patient wit, Our helmsman steered us through. When a fair wind sprang up behind, The Albatross did follow, And every day hindered our way, Despite the Mariner's hollo! In mist or cloud it strove to shroud Our course athwart the brine, Night after night it led to fight, And kicking up of shine. [Sidenote: The Ancient Mariner incontinently killeth the bird of ill-omen.] "God help thee, Ancient Mariner! From the fiends that plague thee thus! What did'st thou do?" With my closure-bow _I shot the Albatross!!!_ * * * * * [Sidenote: When the fog cleared his shipmates justified the same, and thus make themselves accomplices therein.] Now round and red, like a Scotchman's head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay That brought the fog and mist. [Sidenote: The fair breeze continues; the Ship enters the Sea of Silence by the Straits of Gag.] The fair breeze blew, the gag-saved crew, Were from Obstruction free; We were the first that ever burst Into that _silent sea_! [Illustration: "A SAIL! A SAIL!" ("_The Rime of the Ancient Mariner._")] [Sidenote: The Ship is suddenly becalmed, and findeth that enforced silence means not peaceful progress.] Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; With flopping sail of what avail The silence of the sea? Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. [Sidenote: The Spirit of Obstruction had followed in spook-like silent, sub-marine secrecy.] And some in dreams assured were Of the spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us, From the land of mist and snow. If this be so, my shipmates said, What use that bird to shoot? We make no way, no more than if We were shackled hand and foot. [Sidenote: The shipmates, in their sore distress, are tempted to throw the blame on the Ancient Mariner.]