#AmericanWriters
We rovers bold, To the land of Gold, Over the bowling billows are glidi… Eager to toil, For the golden spoil,
Concerning the officers of the whale-craft, this seems as good a place as any to set down a little domestic peculiarity on ship-board, arising from the existence of the harpooneer class...
Stubb was the second mate. He was a native of Cape Cod; and hence, according to local usage, was called a Cape-Cod-man. A happy-go-lucky; neither craven nor valiant; taking perils as th...
Ye elms that wave on Malvern Hill In prime of morn and May, Recall ye how McClellan’s men Here stood at bay? While deep within yon forest dim
Care is all stuff:— Puff! Puff! To puff is enough:— Puff! Puff More musky than snuff,
Ha, ha, gods and kings; fill high,… Drink, drink! shout and drink! mad… the call! Fill fast, and fill full; 'gainst… sin;
That night, in the mid-watch, when the old man—as his wont at intervals—stepped forth from the scuttle in which he leaned, and went to his pivot-hole, he suddenly thrust out his face fi...
Though fast youth’s glorious fable… View not the world with worldling’… Nor turn with weather of the time. Foreclose the coming of surprise: Stand where Posterity shall stand…
How often in the years that close, When truce had stilled the sieging… The soldiers, mounting on their wo… With mutual curious glance have ru… From face to face along the fronti…
It was nearly six o’clock, but only grey imperfect misty dawn, when we drew nigh the wharf. “There are some sailors running ahead there, if I see right,” said I to Queequeg, “it can’t b...
I saw a ship of material build (Her standards set, her brave appa… Directed as by madness mere Against a solid iceberg steer, Nor budge it, though the infactuat…
“Such a queer dream, King-Post, I never had. You know the old man’s ivory leg, well I dreamed he kicked me with it; and when I tried to kick back, upon my soul, my little man, I kicked ...
Yon black man-of-war-hawk that whe… the light O’er the black ship’s white sky-s’… cloud to the sight, Have we low-flyers wings to ascend…
_For Soldiers lost in Ocean Tran… When, after storms that woodlands… To valleys comes atoning dawn, The robins blithe their orchard-sp… And meadow-larks, no more withdraw…