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...

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…

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...

Stubb was the second mate. He was a native of Cape Cod; and hence, according to local usage, was called a Cape-Cod-man. A happy-go-lucky; neither craven nor valiant; taking perils as th...

Some days elapsed, and ice and icebergs all astern, the Pequod now went rolling through the bright Quito spring, which, at sea, almost perpetually reigns on the threshold of the eternal...

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

“Few of us doubt, gentlemen, that human life on this earth is but a state of probation; which among other things implies, that here below, we mortals have only to do with things provisi...

Entering that gable-ended Spouter-Inn, you found yourself in a wide, low, straggling entry with old-fashioned wainscots, reminding one of the bulwarks of some condemned old craft. On on...

One that I cherished, Yea, loved as a son - Up early, up late with, My promising one: No use in good nurture,

_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!

Yon black man-of-war-hawk that whe… the light O’er the black ship’s white sky-s’… cloud to the sight, Have we low-flyers wings to ascend…

The color-bearers facing death White in the whirling sulphurous w… Stand boldly out before the line; Right and left their glances go, Proud of each other, glorying in t…

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, ...

While faith forecasts millennial y… Spite Europe’s embattled lines, Back to the Past one glance be ca… The Age of the Antonines! O summit of fate, O zenith of tim…