#AmericanWriters
Mortally Wounded at Chancellorsvi… The Man who fiercest charged in f… Whose sword and prayer were long - Stonewall! Even him who stoutly stood for Wr…
Next morning, Monday, after disposing of the embalmed head to a barber, for a block, I settled my own and comrade’s bill; using, however, my comrade’s money. The grinning landlord, as w...
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...
November, 1863 A kindling impulse seized the host Inspired by heaven’s elastic air; Their hearts outran their General… Though Grant commanded there—
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim, We care not for friend nor for foe… Our fins are stout, Our tails are out, As through the seas we go.
_At The Surf Inn_ List the harp in window wailing Stirred by fitful gales from sea: Shrieking up in mad crescendo— Dying down in plaintive key!
June, 1865 Armies he’s seen—the herds of war, But never such swarms of men As now in the Nineveh of the Nort… How mad the Rebellion then!
Some relics of the hut of Oberlus partially remain to this day at the head of the clinkered valley. Nor does the stranger, wandering among other of the Enchanted Isles, fail to stumble ...
Farewell and adieu to you noble he… Farewell and adieu to you ladies o… For I’ve received orders for to s… Deadman, But hope with the grand fleet to s…
Returning to the Spouter-Inn from the Chapel, I found Queequeg there quite alone; he having left the Chapel before the benediction some time. He was sitting on a bench before the fire, ...
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…
Wandering late by morning seas When my heart with pain was low— Hate the censor pelted me— Deject I saw my shadow go. In elf-caprice of bitter tone
Persian, you rise Aflame from climes of sacrifice Where adulators sue, And prostrate man, with brow abase… Adheres to rites whose tenor trace…
When I removed into the country, it was to occupy an old-fashioned farmhouse, which had no piazza—a deficiency the more regretted because not only did I like piazzas, as somehow combini...
I AM a rather elderly man. The nature of my avocations for the last thirty years has brought me into more than ordinary contact with what would seem an interesting and somewhat singular...