foremost through the sparkling sea shoots on the gay, embattled, bantering bow, but only to drag dark ahab after it, where he broods within his sternward cabin, builded over the dead water of the wake, and further on, hunted by its wolfish gurglings. the long howl thrills me through! peace! ye revellers, and set the watch! oh, life! ’tis in an hour like this, with soul beat down and held to knowledge,—as wild, untutored things are forced to feed—oh, life! ’tis now that i do feel the latent horror in thee! but ’tis not me! that horror’s out of me!