Jack in the Forecastle,or Incidents in the Early Life of Hawser Martingale [pseud.].

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Estes and Lauriat, 1880

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Seite 324 - em. Caliban. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou earnest first, Thou strok'dst me and mad'st much of me, wouldst give me Water with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
Seite 447 - All scattered in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls ; and in those, holes Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept, As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep, And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.
Seite 15 - A LIFE on the ocean wave, A home on the rolling deep, Where the scattered waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! Like an eagle caged, I pine On this dull, unchanging shore: Oh! give me the flashing brine, The spray and the tempest's roar! Once more on the deck I stand Of my own swift-gliding craft: Set sail!
Seite 399 - Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Seite 126 - The upturning points his ponderous bulk sustain, On deck he struggles with convulsive pain : But while his heart the fatal javelin thrills, And flitting life escapes in sanguine rills, What radiant changes strike the...
Seite 446 - Pour through the wave a softer ray ; While diamonds, in a bower of spar, At eve shall shed a brighter day. Nor stormy wind, nor wintry gale, That o'er the angry ocean sweep, Shall e'er our coral groves assail, Calm in the bosom of the deep. Through the green meads beneath the sea, Enamoured, we shall fondly stray — Then, gentle warrior, dwell with me, And leave the maid of Colonsay...
Seite 132 - ... which had been nearly filled with water for the occasion, and surrounded by as jovial a set of fellows as ever played off a practical joke. Old Neptune proved to be Jim Sinclair, of Marblehead, but so disguised that his own mother could not have known him. His ill-favored and weather-beaten visage was covered with streaks of paint, like the face of a wild Indian on the war-path. He had a thick beard made of oakum ; and a wig of rope-yarns, the curls hanging gracefully on his shoulders, was surmounted...
Seite 126 - When orient dews impearl the enamell'd lawn ; Than from his sides in bright suffusion flow, That now with gold empyreal seem to glow; Now in pellucid sapphires meet the view, And emulate the soft celestial hue; Now beam a flaming crimson on the eye, And now assume the purple's deeper dye...
Seite 131 - A cordial greeting was soon interchanged between Captain Page and Old Neptune on deck, to which we prisoners listened with much interest. The slide of the scuttle was removed, and orders given for one of the " strangers " to come on deck and be shaved. Anxious to develop the mystery and be qualified to bear a part in the frolic, I pressed forward ; but as soon as my hand appeared above the rim of the scuttle I was seized, blindfolded, and led to the main deck, where I was urged, by a press of politeness...
Seite 446 - Rings from the motley tortoise-shell, While moonbeams o'er the watery plain Seem trembling in its fitful swell. How sweet, when billows heave their head, And shake their snowy crests on high, Serene in Ocean's sapphire bed, Beneath the tumbling surge to lie ; To trace...

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