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...

"Though He slay me, yet will I… Shall hearts that beat no base ret… In youth’s magnanimous years - Ignoble hold it, if discreet When interest tames to fears;

1860-1 The Ancient of Days forever is yo… Forever the scheme of Nature thri… I know a wind in purpose strong— It spins _against_ the way it driv…

Not magnitude, not lavishness, But Form’€”the Site; Not innovating wilfulness, But reverence for the Archetype.

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...

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...

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…

My soul is more than matched; she’s overmanned; and by a madman! Insufferable sting, that sanity should ground arms on such a field! But he drilled deep down, and blasted all my reason ...

The cabin; by the stern windows; Ahab sitting alone, and gazing out. I leave a white and turbid wake; pale waters, paler cheeks, where’er I sail. The envious billows sidelong swell to w...

Look, the raft, a signal flying, Thin—a shred; None upon the lashed spars lying, Quick or dead. Cries the sea-fowl, hovering over,

Strenuous need that head-wind be From purposed voyage that drives a… The ship, sharp-braced and dogged… Beating up against the blast. Brigs that figs for market gather,

One man we claim of wrought reknow… Which not the North shall care to… A Modern lived who sleeps in deat… Calm as the marble Ancients are: ’Tis he whose life, though a vapor…

When ocean-clouds over inland hill… Sweep storming in late autumn brow… And horror the sodden valley fills… And the spire falls crashing in th… I muse upon my country’s ills—

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…