#AmericanWriters
And all about it wandring ghosts did wayle and howl.” Take five-and-twenty heaps of cinders dumped here and there in an outside city lot, imagine some of them magnified into mountains, ...
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…
For several days after leaving Nantucket, nothing above hatches was seen of Captain Ahab. The mates regularly relieved each other at the watches, and for aught that could be seen to the...
We had lain thus in bed, chatting and napping at short intervals, and Queequeg now and then affectionately throwing his brown tattooed legs over mine, and then drawing them back; so ent...
Far off in the sea is Marlena, A land of shades and streams, A land of many delights, Dark and bold, thy shores, Marlen… But green, and timorous, thy soft…
When I removed into the country, it was to occupy an old-fashioned farm-house, which had no piazza—a deficiency the more regretted, because not only did I like piazzas, as somehow combi...
A day or two passed, and there was great activity aboard the Pequod. Not only were the old sails being mended, but new sails were coming on board, and bolts of canvas, and coils of rigg...
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...
_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!
Though the Clerk of the Weather i… And lay down the weather-law, Pintado and gannet they wist That the winds blow whither they l… In tempest or flaw.
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…
From ‘The Saya-y-Manto.’ While now the Pole Star sinks fro… The Southern Cross it climbs the… But losing thee, my love, my light… O bride but for one bridal night,
ALOFT he guards the starry folds Who is the brother of the star; The bird whose joy is in the wind Exulteth in the war. No painted plume—a sober hue,
_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…
_Commemorative of the Dissolution… May, 1865 What power disbands the Northern… After their steely play? The lonely watcher feels an awe