Moby-Dick™

Update for With kings and counselors
(and Der Fluch des Albatros):

120 years without Herman Melville (August 1, 1819—September 28, 1891).

But I doubt not, that leathern tally, meant for man, was taken off in Heaven, when the white fowl flew to join the wing-folding, the invoking, and adoring cherubim!

The Whiteness of the Whale

Tune: Greenland Whale Fisheries.

1.: In eighteen hundred and ninety-one,
when I drew my last breath,
the world that I’d travelled
     went turning on and on,
          and I died myself to death
               (great whales!)
          and I died myself to death.

2.: I lived my life and loved my wife,
for the seas and the islands I set sail,
worked and toiled day and night
     and had jobs from nine to five,
          and saw the Whiteness of the Whale
               (and I’ve seen)
          — saw the Whiteness of the Whale.

3.: For six score years you friends were here
to sing and tell my tale,
before it all blurred,
     you made books and spread the word
          and continued on my trail
               (so you heard)
          of the Whiteness of the Whale.

4.: All through the night by torchlamp light
until the morning dawn went pale
you read books of love and fight
     till your face turned paper white
          and your bed swayed in the gale
               (girls and males)
          from the Whiteness of the Whale.

5.: The words I found have been around
for longer than me, and were more right
than my ways that I walked
     while I sailed and sung and talked
          and my whaling fortune tried
               — so you might
          feel the Whaleness of the White.

6.: My dream is, for some centuries
you bold boys and gay girls shalt still me hail.
Thou shalt quote what I wrote
     on my deathgown that I showed
          life and death are not a fail.
               So behold
          all the Whiteness of the Whale!

(For 6 score years: 6×7=42 lines for Chapter 42.)

Image: Casey Muir-Taylor: You Step On All My Parts, March 19, 2011.