Hanging from the beam, Slowly swaying (such the law), Gaunt the shadow on the green, Shenandoah! The cut is on the crown

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...

“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 ...

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...

Children of my happier prime, When One yet lived with me, and t… Her rainbow over life and time, Even Hope, my bride, and mother t… O, nurtured in sweet pastoral air,

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...

_Under the Disaster of the Second… They take no shame for dark defeat While prizing yet each victory won… Who fight for the Right through a… Nor pause until their work is done…

Ere quitting Rodondo, it must not be omitted that here, in 1813, the U.S. frigate Essex, Captain David Porter, came near leaving her bones. Lying becalmed one morning with a strong curr...

With banners furled and clarions m… An army passes in the night; And beaming spears and helms salut… The dark with bright. In silence deep the legions stream…

Persian, you rise Aflame from climes of sacrifice Where adulators sue, And prostrate man, with brow abase… Adheres to rites whose tenor trace…

Were shronke into the jawes, as he did never dine. Southeast of Crossman’s Isle lies Hood’s Isle, or McCain’s Beclouded lsle, and upon its south side is a vitreous cove with a wide stra...

_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…

The appointment was that I should meet my elderly uncle at the riverside, precisely at nine in the morning. The skiff was to be ready, and the apparatus to be brought down by his grizzl...

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 stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpet-bag, tucked it under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and the Pacific. Quitting the good city of old Manhatto, I duly arrived in New Bedford...