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 99

to let the grateful fluid trickle into our mouths. In this occupation
we passed the entire day.

_August 7._ Just at daybreak we both at the same instant descried a
sail to the eastward, and _evidently coming towards us!_ We hailed the
glorious sight with a long, although feeble shout of rapture; and began
instantly to make every signal in our power, by flaring the shirts in
the air, leaping as high as our weak condition would permit, and even
by hallooing with all the strength of our lungs, although the vessel
could not have been less than fifteen miles distant. However, she still
continued to near our hulk, and we felt that, if she but held her
present course, she must eventually come so close as to perceive us. In
about an hour after we first discovered her we could clearly see the
people on her decks. She was a long, low, and rakish-looking topsail
schooner, with a black ball in her foretopsail, and had, apparently, a
full crew. We now became alarmed, for we could hardly imagine it
possible that she did not observe us, and were apprehensive that she
meant to leave us to perish as we were--an act of fiendish barbarity,
which, however incredible it may appear, has been repeatedly
perpetrated at sea, under circumstances very nearly similar, and by
beings who were regarded as belonging to the human species.[2] In this
instance, however, by the mercy of God, we were destined to be most
happily deceived; for presently we were aware of a sudden commotion on
the deck of the stranger, who immediately afterward run up a British
flag, and, hauling her wind, bore up directly upon us. In half an hour
more we found ourselves in her cabin. She proved to be the Jane Guy, of
Liverpool, Captain Guy, bound on a sealing and trading voyage to the
South Seas and Pacific.

[Footnote 2: The case of the brig Polly, of Boston, is one so much in
point, and her fate, in many respects, so remarkably similar to our
own, that I cannot forbear alluding to it here. This vessel, of one
hundred and thirty tons burden, sailed from Boston, with a cargo of
lumber and provisions, for Santa Croix, on the twelfth of December,
1811, under the command of Captain Casneau. There were eight souls on
board besides the captain--the mate, four seamen, and the cook,
together with a Mr. Hunt, and a negro girl belonging to him. On the
fifteenth, having cleared the shoal of Georges, she sprung a leak in a
gale of wind from the southeast,

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Text Comparison with Le Corbeau = The Raven

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Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought 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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»_ Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping--tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:-- Darkness there and nothing more.
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Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord and lady, perched above my chamber door-- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-- .
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" _Alors cet oiseau d'ébène induisant ma triste imagination au sourire, par le grave et sévère décorum de la contenance qu'il eut: «Quoique ta crête soit chue et rase, non! dis-je, tu n'es pas pour sûr un poltron, spectral, lugubre et ancien Corbeau, errant loin du rivage de Nuit--dis-moi quel est ton nom seigneurial au rivage plutonien de Nuit.
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" _Mais le Corbeau, perché solitairement sur ce buste placide, parla ce seul mot comme si, son âme, en ce seul mot, il la répandait.
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" _Le Corbeau induisant toute ma triste âme encore au sourire, je roulai soudain un siége à coussins en face de l'oiseau et du buste et de la porte; et m'enfonçant dans le velours, je me pris à enchaîner songerie à songerie, pensant à ce que cet augural oiseau de jadis--à ce que ce sombre, disgracieux, sinistre, maigre et augural oiseau de jadis signifiait en croassant: «Jamais plus.
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«Misérable, m'écriai-je, ton Dieu t'a prêté--il t'a envoyé, par ces anges, le répit--le répit et le népenthès dans ta mémoire de Lénore! Bois! oh! bois ce bon népenthès et oublie cette Lénore perdue!» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus!»_ "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!-- Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-- On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore-- Is there--_is_ there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
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«Recule en la tempête et le rivage plutonien de Nuit! Ne laisse pas une plume noire ici comme un gage du mensonge qu'a proféré ton âme.