#Americans
At length, towards noon, upon the final dismissal of the ship’s riggers, and after the Pequod had been hauled out from the wharf, and after the ever-thoughtful Charity had come off in a...
“Let us all servile base subjectio… And as we be sons of the earth so… Let us our father’s heritage divid… And challenge to ourselves our por… Of all the patrimony, which a few
IN THE year 1799, Captain Amasa Delano, of Duxbury, in Massachusetts, commanding a large sealer and general trader, lay at anchor, with a valuable cargo, in the harbour of St. Maria—a ...
He toned the sprightly beam of mor… With twilight meek of tender eve, Brightness interfused with softnes… Light and shade did weave: And gave to candor equal place
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a littl...
The pale Usher—threadbare in coat, heart, body, and brain; I see him now. He was ever dusting his old lexicons and grammars, with a queer handkerchief, mockingly embellished with all th...
Hanging from the beam, Slowly swaying (such the law), Gaunt the shadow on the green, Shenandoah! The cut is on the crown
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 ...
Sailors there are of the gentlest… Yet strong, like every goodly thin… The discipline of arms refines, And the wave gives tempering. The damasked blade its beam can fl…
Plain be the phrase, yet apt the v… More ponderous than nimble; For since grimed War here laid as… His painted pomp, 'twould ill befi… Overmuch to ply
Aloof they crown the foreland lone… From aloft they loftier rise— Fair columns, in the aureole rolle… From sunned Greek seas and skies. They wax, sublimed to fancy’s view…
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.
“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 ...
Not Kenesaw high-arching, Nor Allatoona’s glen— Though there the graves lie parchi… Stayed Sherman’s miles of men; From charred Atlanta marching
_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!
