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 75

so as
to display a set of the most brilliantly white teeth. As his vessel
drew nearer, we saw a red flannel cap which he had on fall from his
head into the water; but of this he took little or no notice,
continuing his odd smiles and gesticulations. I relate these things and
circumstances minutely, and I relate them, it must be understood,
precisely as they _appeared_ to us.

The brig came on slowly, and now more steadily than before, and--I
cannot speak calmly of this event--our hearts leaped up wildly within
us, and we poured out our whole souls in shouts and thanksgiving to God
for the complete, unexpected, and glorious deliverance that was so
palpably at hand. Of a sudden, and all at once, there came wafted over
the ocean from the strange vessel (which was now close upon us) a
smell, a stench, such as the whole world has no name for--no conception
of--hellish--utterly suffocating--insufferable, inconceivable. I gasped
for breath, and, turning to my companions, perceived that they were
paler than marble. But we had now no time left for question or
surmise--the brig was within fifty feet of us, and it seemed to be her
intention to run under our counter, that we might board her without her
putting out a boat. We rushed aft, when, suddenly, a wide yaw threw her
off full five or six points from the course she had been running, and,
as she passed under our stern at the distance of about twenty feet, we
had a full view of her decks. Shall I ever forget the triple horror of
that spectacle? Twenty-five or thirty human bodies, among whom were
several females, lay scattered about between the counter and the
galley, in the last and most loathsome state of putrefaction! We
plainly saw that not a soul lived in that fated vessel! Yet we could
not help shouting to the dead for help! Yes, long and loudly did we
beg, in the agony of the moment, that those silent and disgusting
images would stay for us, would not abandon us to become like them,
would receive us among their goodly company! We were raving with horror
and despair--thoroughly mad through the anguish of our grievous
disappointment.

As our first loud yell of terror broke forth, it was replied to by
something, from near the bowsprit of the stranger, so closely
resembling the scream of a human voice that the nicest ear might have
been startled and deceived. At this instant another sudden yaw brought
the region of the forecastle for a moment into view, and we beheld

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Text Comparison with The Raven Illustrated

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Eagerly I wished the morrow;-- Vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow-- Sorrow for the lost Lenore-- For the rare and radiant maiden Whom the angels name Lenore-- Nameless here for evermore.
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