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...

So my poem is damned, and immortal fame is not for me! I am nobody forever and ever. Intolerable fate! Snatching my hat, I dashed down the criticism, and rushed out into Broadway, where...

I have a feeling for those ships, Each worn and ancient one, With great bluff bows, and broad i… Ay, it was unkindly done. But so they serve the Obsolete–

_From ‘Rammon.’_ Through storms you reach them and… storms are free. Afar descried, the foremost drear… But, nearer, green; and, on the ma…

Queequeg and I had just left the Pequod, and were sauntering away from the water, for the moment each occupied with his own thoughts, when the above words were put to us by a stranger, ...

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…

As Queequeg and I are now fairly embarked in this business of whaling; and as this business of whaling has somehow come to be regarded among landsmen as a rather unpoetical and disreput...

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,

What grand irregular thunder, thought I, standing on my hearthstone among the Acroceraunian hills, as the scattered bolts boomed overhead and crashed down among the valleys, every bolt ...

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...

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

Departed the pride, and the glory… The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep… That rolls o’er his corse with a h… His warriors bend over their spear… His sisters gaze upward and mourn.

“How bravely now we live, how jocund, how near the first inheritance, without fear, how free from little troubles!” Near two centuries ago Barrington Isle was the resort of that famous ...

_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…