(October, 1864) Shoe the steed with silver That bore him to the fray, When he heard the guns at dawning– Miles away;

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…

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...

When I first saw the table, dingy and dusty, in the furthest corner of the old hopper-shaped garret, and set out with broken, be-crusted old purple vials and flasks, and a ghostly, dism...

All dripping in tangles green, Cast up by a lonely sea If purer for that, O Weed, Bitterer, too, are ye?

As we were walking down the end of the wharf towards the ship, Queequeg carrying his harpoon, Captain Peleg in his gruff voice loudly hailed us from his wigwam, saying he had not suspec...

Nothing more happened on the passage worthy the mentioning; so, after a fine run, we safely arrived in Nantucket. Nantucket! Take out your map and look at it. See what a real corner of ...

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…

Wandering late by morning seas When my heart with pain was low— Hate the censor pelted me— Deject I saw my shadow go. In elf-caprice of bitter tone

When ocean-clouds over inland hill… Sweep storming in late autumn brow… And horror the sodden valley fills… And the spire falls crashing in th… I muse upon my country’s ills—

To go up into a high stone tower is not only a very fine thing in itself, but the very best mode of gaining a comprehensive view of the region round about. It is all the better if this ...

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, ...

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...

Since as in night’s deck-watch ye… Why, lads, so silent here to me, Your watchmate of times long ago? Once, for all the darkling sea, You your voices raised how clearly…

It is noon; and Dough-Boy, the steward, thrusting his pale loaf-of-bread face from the cabin-scuttle, announces dinner to his lord and master; who, sitting in the lee quarter-boat, has ...