The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 3

Augustus and myself were not a little intoxicated
towards the close of it. As usual, in such cases, I took part of his
bed in preference to going home. He went to sleep, as I thought, very
quietly (it being near one when the party broke up), and without saying
a word on his favourite topic. It might have been half an hour from the
time of our getting in bed, and I was just about falling into a doze,
when he suddenly started up, and swore with a terrible oath that he
would not go to sleep for any Arthur Pym in Christendom, when there was
so glorious a breeze from the southwest. I never was so astonished in
my life, not knowing what he intended, and thinking that the wines and
liquors he had drunk had set him entirely beside himself. He proceeded
to talk very coolly, however, saying he knew that I supposed him
intoxicated, but that he was never more sober in his life. He was only
tired, he added, of lying in bed on such a fine night like a dog, and
was determined to get up and dress, and go out on a frolic with the
boat. I can hardly tell what possessed me, but the words were no sooner
out of his mouth than I felt a thrill of the greatest excitement and
pleasure, and thought his mad idea one of the most delightful and most
reasonable things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale, and the
weather was very cold--it being late in October. I sprang out of bed,
nevertheless, in a kind of ecstasy, and told him I was quite as brave
as himself, and quite as tired as he was of lying in bed like a dog,
and quite as ready for any fun or frolic as any Augustus Barnard in

We lost no time in getting on our clothes and hurrying down to the
boat. She was lying at the old decayed wharf by the lumber-yard of
Pankey & Co., and almost thumping her sides out against the rough logs.
Augustus got into her and bailed her, for she was nearly half full of
water. This being done, we hoisted jib and mainsail, kept full, and
started boldly out to sea.

The wind, as I before said, blew freshly from the southwest. The night
was very clear and cold. Augustus had taken the helm, and I stationed
myself by the mast, on the deck of the cuddy. We flew along at a great
rate--neither of us having said a

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Text Comparison with The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Including Essays on Poetry

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He entered as a student on February 1,1826, and remained till the close of the second session in December of that year.
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Edgar Poe's own account of this terrible malady and its cause was made towards the end of his career.
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Time went on, however, and he was invariably punctual and industrious.
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Now Doubt--now Pain .
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) Sweet Lalage, _I love thee_--_love thee_--_love thee_; Thro' good and ill--thro' weal and woe, _I love thee_.
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But she is gone above, With young Hope at her side, And I am drunk with love Of the dead, who is my bride.
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Occasionally the poetic intellect--that intellect which we now feel to have been the most exalted of all--since those truths which to us were of the most enduring importance could only be reached by that _analogy_ which speaks in proof-tones to the imagination alone, and to the unaided reason bears no weight--occasionally did this poetic intellect proceed a step farther in the evolving of the vague idea of the philosophic, and find in the mystic parable that tells of the tree of knowledge, and of its forbidden fruit, death-producing, a distinct intimation that knowledge was not meet for man in the infant condition of his soul.
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The eye-lids, transparent and bloodless, offered no complete impediment to vision.
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And his brow was lofty with thought, and his eye wild with care; and in the few furrows upon his cheek, I read the fables of sorrow, and weariness, and disgust with mankind, and a longing after solitude.
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possible, is the exact converse of the poetical.
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Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.
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It is, moreover, powerfully ideal--imaginative.