Poet’s Corner: Coleridge–Rime 11

3 April 2026

(31 October 2014) We recall that last week the dead crew of the Mariner’s ship all rise up and begin to work the lines and steer the ship, although the ship moves without wind. As if reflecting the reader’s horror at this, the Wedding Guest breaks in with his usual refrain of fear; the Mariner assures him that the souls of the dead men did not return to their bodies, but friendly spirits, and to emphasize this difference, he goes on to tell the next strange happening that comes when the sun rises:

For when it dawned – they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the skylark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!

And now ’twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel’s song,
That makes the heavens be mute.

In another strange turn of events in this bizarre tale, these spirit-occupied dead sailors gather around the mast and begin to sing an unearthly song, and the Mariner is at a loss for how to explain this music, so he falls back on birds singing and all instruments playing, but neither one of these will silence the heavens, for the music is something beyond his ability to understand. Next week we will see another strange turn in Coleridge’s masterwork! Come back next week for another dose of this garish tale! Good reading!