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    John Marr and Other Poems
    John Marr and Other Poems
    John Marr and Other Poems
    Ebook88 pages51 minutes

    John Marr and Other Poems

    By Herman Melville

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    About this ebook

    Herman Melville was one of the greatest writers during the American Renaissance.  Melville’s unique style helped produce classics in many different genres.  This edition of John Marr and Other Poems includes a table of contents. 
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCharles River Editors
    Release dateMar 22, 2018
    ISBN9781531276843
    John Marr and Other Poems
    Author

    Herman Melville

    Bhí Herman Melville (1819-1891) ina úrscéalaí Meiriceánach, ina scríbhneoir gearrscéalta agus ina fhile. Is fearr aithne ar Moby-Dick, a chuid oibre, rinne a chuid oibre iniúchadh ar théamaí cinniúint, obsession, agus streachailt na daonnachta in aghaidh an dúlra. Cé nach bhfuil sé aitheanta den chuid is mó le linn a shaoil, meastar anois go bhfuil Melville ar cheann de na húdair is mó Meiriceánach.

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      Book preview

      John Marr and Other Poems - Herman Melville

      JOHN MARR AND OTHER POEMS

      ..................

      Herman Melville

      KYPROS PRESS

      Thank you for reading. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review or connect with the author.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2016 by Herman Melville

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      John Marr and Other Poems

      JOHN MARR AND OTHER SAILORS

      BRIDEGROOM DICK

      TOM DEADLIGHT

      JACK ROY

      Sea Pieces

      Poems From Timoleon

      SUPPLEMENT

      Poems From Mardi

      Poems From Clarel

      JOHN MARR AND OTHER POEMS

      ..................

      JOHN MARR AND OTHER SAILORS

      Since as in night’s deck-watch ye show,

      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,

      Striking in when tempest sung;

      Hoisting up the storm-sail cheerly,

      Life is storm—let storm! you rung.

      Taking things as fated merely,

      Childlike though the world ye spanned;

      Nor holding unto life too dearly,

      Ye who held your lives in hand—

      Skimmers, who on oceans four

      Petrels were, and larks ashore.

      O, not from memory lightly flung,

      Forgot, like strains no more availing,

      The heart to music haughtier strung;

      Nay, frequent near me, never staleing,

      Whose good feeling kept ye young.

      Like tides that enter creek or stream,

      Ye come, ye visit me, or seem

      Swimming out from seas of faces,

      Alien myriads memory traces,

      To enfold me in a dream!

      I yearn as ye. But rafts that strain,

      Parted, shall they lock again?

      Twined we were, entwined, then riven,

      Ever to new embracements driven,

      Shifting gulf-weed of the main!

      And how if one here shift no more,

      Lodged by the flinging surge ashore?

      Nor less, as now, in eve’s decline,

      Your shadowy fellowship is mine.

      Ye float around me, form and feature:—

      Tattooings, ear-rings, love-locks curled;

      Barbarians of man’s simpler nature,

      Unworldly servers of the world.

      Yea, present all, and dear to me,

      Though shades, or scouring China’s sea.

      Whither, whither, merchant-sailors,

      Whitherward now in roaring gales?

      Competing still, ye huntsman-whalers,

      In leviathan’s wake what boat prevails?

      And man-of-war’s men, whereaway?

      If now no dinned drum beat to quarters

      On the wilds of midnight waters—

      Foemen looming through the spray;

      Do yet your gangway lanterns, streaming,

      Vainly strive to pierce below,

      When, tilted from the slant plank gleaming,

      A brother you see to darkness go?

      But, gunmates lashed in shotted canvas,

      If where long watch-below ye keep,

      Never the shrill All hands up hammocks!

      Breaks the spell that charms your sleep,

      And summoning trumps might vainly call,

      And booming guns implore—

      A beat, a heart-beat musters all,

      One heart-beat at heart-core.

      It musters. But to clasp, retain;

      To see you at the halyards main—

      To hear your chorus once again!

      BRIDEGROOM DICK

      1876

      Sunning ourselves in October on a day

      Balmy as spring, though the year was in decay,

      I lading my pipe, she stirring her tea,

      My old woman she says to me,

      Feel ye, old man, how the season mellows?

      And why should I not, blessed heart alive,

      Here mellowing myself, past sixty-five,

      To think o’ the May-time o’ pennoned young

      fellows

      This stripped old hulk here for years may

      survive.

      Ere yet, long ago, we were spliced, Bonny Blue,

      (Silvery it gleams down the moon-glade o’ time,

      Ah, sugar in the bowl and berries in the prime!)

      Coxswain I o’ the Commodore’s crew,—

      Under me the fellows that manned his fine gig,

      Spinning him ashore, a king in full fig.

      Chirrupy even when crosses rubbed me,

      Bridegroom Dick lieutenants dubbed me.

      Pleasant at a yarn, Bob o’ Linkum in a song,

      Diligent in duty and nattily arrayed,

      Favored I was, wife, and fleeted right along;

      And though but a tot for such a tall grade,

      A high quartermaster at last I was made.

      All this, old lassie, you have heard before,

      But you listen again for the sake e’en o’ me;

      No babble stales o’ the good times o’ yore

      To Joan, if Darby the babbler

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