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Where got'st thou that goose-look? would supply a modern playwright with a square foot of gold-beaten invective. "True poems," said Irving, "are caskets which enclose in a small compass the wealth of the language its family jewels." But when poems are paid by the line, bards are pardonable for diffuseness. And then, besides diffuseness, our age has wonderful literary fecundity.
"God keep us, but already my bones feel damp within me, and from the inside wet my flesh. I misdoubt me that I disobey my God in obeying him!" "Stand by to sway me up!" cried Ahab, advancing to the hempen basket. "We should meet him soon." "Aye, aye, sir," and straightway Starbuck did Ahab's bidding, and once more Ahab swung on high. A whole hour now passed; gold-beaten out to ages.
"God keep us, but already my bones feel damp within me, and from the inside wet my flesh. I misdoubt me that I disobey my God in obeying him!" "Stand by to sway me up!" cried Ahab, advancing to the hempen basket. "We should meet him soon." "Aye, aye, sir," and straightway Starbuck did Ahab's bidding, and once more Ahab swung on high. A whole hour now passed; gold-beaten out to ages.
"God keep us, but already my bones feel damp within me, and from the inside wet my flesh. I misdoubt me that I disobey my God in obeying him!" "Stand by to sway me up!" cried Ahab, advancing to the hempen basket. "We should meet him soon." "Aye, aye, sir," and straightway Starbuck did Ahab's bidding, and once more Ahab swung on high. A whole hour now passed; gold-beaten out to ages.
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