Моби Дик

The Gilder

           Thelong-drawnvirginvales;themildbluehill-sides;asoverthesetherestealsthehush,thehum;youalmostswearthatplay-weariedchildrenliesleepinginthesesolitudes,insomegladMay-time,whentheflowersofthewoodsareplucked.Andallthismixeswithyourmostmysticmood;sothatfactandfancy,half-waymeeting,interpenetrate,andformoneseamlesswhole.

           Nordidsuchsoothingscenes,howevertemporary,failofatleastastemporaryaneffectonAhab.Butifthesesecretgoldenkeysdidseemtoopeninhimhisownsecretgoldentreasuries,yetdidhisbreathuponthemprovebuttarnishing.

           Oh,grassyglades!oheververnalendlesslandscapesinthesoul;inyethoughlongparchedbythedeaddroughtoftheearthlylifeinye,menyetmayroll,likeyounghorsesinnewmorningclover;andforsomefewfleetingmoments,feelthecooldewofthelifeimmortalonthem.WouldtoGodtheseblessedcalmswouldlast.Butthemingled,minglingthreadsoflifearewovenbywarpandwoof:calmscrossedbystorms,astormforeverycalm.Thereisnosteadyunretracingprogressinthislife;wedonotadvancethroughfixedgradations,andatthelastonepause:—throughinfancy’sunconsciousspell,boyhood’sthoughtlessfaith,adolescence’doubt(thecommondoom),thenscepticism,thendisbelief,restingatlastinmanhood’sponderingreposeofIf.Butoncegonethrough,wetracetheroundagain;andareinfants,boys,andmen,andIfseternally

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