#AmericanWriters
I had not been seated very long ere a man of a certain venerable robustness entered; immediately as the storm-pelted door flew back upon admitting him, a quick regardful eyeing of him 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…
One noonday, at my window in the t… I saw a sight– saddest that eyes c… Young soldiers marching lustily Unto the wars, With fifes, and flags in mottoed p…
It was quite late in the evening when the little Moss came snugly to anchor, and Queequeg and I went ashore; so we could attend to no business that day, at least none but a supper and a...
About the Shark, phlegmatical one… Pale sot of the Maldive sea, The sleek little pilot-fish, azure… How alert in attendance be. From his saw-pit of mouth, from hi…
The gloomy hulls in armor grim, Like clouds o’er moors have met, And prove that oak, and iron, and… Are tough in fibre yet. But Splendors wane. The sea-fight…
In the south of Europe, nigh a once frescoed capital, now with dank mold cankering its bloom, central in a plain, stands what, at distance, seems the black mossed stump of some immeasur...
We rovers bold, To the land of Gold, Over the bowling billows are glidi… Eager to toil, For the golden spoil,
A TIME ago, no matter how long precisely, I, an old man, removed from the country to the city, having become unexpected heir to a great old house in a narrow street of one of the lower ...
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…
To have known him, to have loved h… After loneness long; And then to be estranged in life, And neither in the wrong; And now for death to set his seal—
The sufferance of her race is show… And retrospect of life, Which now too late deliverance daw… Yet is she not at strife. Her children’s children they shall…
It is noon; and Dough-Boy, the steward, thrusting his pale loaf-of-bread face from the cabin-scuttle, announces dinner to his lord and master; who, sitting in the lee quarter-boat, has ...
So my poem is damned, and immortal fame is not for me! I am nobody forever and ever. Intolerable fate! Snatching my hat, I dashed down the criticism, and rushed out into Broadway, where...
Skimming lightly, wheeling still, The swallows fly low Over the field in clouded days, The forest-field of Shiloh— Over the field where April rain