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Read book online ยซBilly Budd by Herman Melville (best books for 20 year olds .TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Herman Melville



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mysteriously gone. At the time, on the gun decks of the Indomitable, the general estimate of his nature and its unconscious simplicity eventually found rude utterance from another foretopman, one of his own watch, gifted, as some sailors are, with an artless poetic temperament; the tarry hands made some lines which after circulating among the shipboard crew for a while, finally got rudely printed at Portsmouth as a ballad. The title given to it was the sailorโ€™s.

BILLY IN THE DARBIES

Good of the Chaplain to enter Lone Bay

And down on his marrow-bones here and pray

For the likes just oโ€™ me, Billy Budd.

โ€”But look: Through the port comes the moonshine astray!

It tips the guardโ€™s cutlas and silvers this nook;

But โ€˜twill die in the dawning of Billyโ€™s last day.

A jewel-block theyโ€™ll make of me to-morrow,

Pendant pearl from the yard-arm-end

Like the ear-drop I gave to Bristol Mollyโ€”

O, โ€˜tis me, not the sentence theyโ€™ll suspend.

Ay, Ay, Ay, all is up; and I must up to

Early in the morning, aloft from alow.

On an empty stomach, now, never it would do.

Theyโ€™ll give me a nibbleโ€”bit oโ€™ biscuit ere I go.

Sure, a messmate will reach me the last parting cup;

But, turning heads away from the hoist and the belay,

Heaven knows who will have the running of me up!

No pipe to those halyards.โ€”But arenโ€™t it all sham?

A blurโ€™s in my eyes; it is dreaming that I am.

A hatchet to my hawser? all adrift to go?

The drum roll to grog, and Billy never know?

But Donald he has promised to stand by the plank;

So Iโ€™ll shake a friendly hand ere I sink.

Butโ€”no! It is dead then Iโ€™ll be, come to think.

I remember Taff the Welshman when he sank.

And his cheek it was like the budding pink.

But me theyโ€™ll lash me in hammock, drop me deep.

Fathoms down, fathoms down, how Iโ€™ll dream fast asleep.

I feel it stealing now. Sentry, are you there?

Just ease this darbies at the wrist, and roll me over fair,

I am sleepy, and the oozy weeds about me twist.

THE END

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