THE UNITED AMATEUR NOVEMBER 1919
The White Ship
Howard Phillips Lovecraft
I am Basil Elton, keeper of the North Point light that my father andgrandfather kept before me. Far from the shore stands the greylighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are seen when the tide is low,but unseen when the tide is high. Past that beacon for a century haveswept the majestic barques of the seven seas. In the days of mygrandfather there were many; in the days of my father not so many; andnow there are so few that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as though Iwere the last man on our planet.
From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from farEastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odours linger aboutstrange gardens and gay temples. The old captains of the sea came oftento my grandfather and told him of these things, which in turn he told tomy father, and my father told to me in the long autumn evenings whenthe wind howled eerily from the East. And I have read more of thesethings, and of many things besides, in the books men gave me when I wasyoung and filled with wonder.
But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is thesecret lore of ocean. Blue, green, grey, white or black; smooth,ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. All my days have Iwatched it and listened to it, and I know it well. At first it told tome only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but withthe years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of thingsmore strange and more distant in space and in time. Sometimes attwilight the grey vapours of the horizon have parted to grant meglimpses of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the deep waters ofthe sea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of theways beneath. And these glimpses have been as often of the ways thatwere and the ways that might be, as of the ways that are; for ocean ismore ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and thedreams of Time.
Out of the South it was that the White Ship used to come when the moonwas full and high in the heavens. Out of the South it would glide verysmoothly and silently over the sea. And whether the sea was rough orcalm, and whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would alwaysglide smoothly and silently, its sails distent and its long strangetiers of oars moving rhythmically. One night I espied upon the deck aman, bearded and robed, and he seemed to beckon me to embark for fairunknown shores. Many times afterward I saw him under the full moon, andever did he beckon me.
Very brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered the call, and Iwalked out over the waters to the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams.The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in a soft language Iseemed to know well, and the hours were filled with soft songs of theoarsmen as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the glowof that full, mellow moon.
And when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I beheld the green shore offar lands, bright and beautiful, and to me unknown. Up from the sea roselordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and shewing here and there thegleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. As we drewnearer the green shore the bearded man told me of that land, the Land ofZar, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of beauty that come to menonce and then are forgotten. And when I looked upon the terraces again Isaw that what he said was true, for among the sights before me were manythings I had once seen through the mists beyond the horizon in thephosphorescent depths of ocean. There too were forms and fantasies moresplendid than I had ever known; the visions of young poets who died inwant before the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. Butwe did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is told thathe who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore.
As the White Ship sailed silently away from the templed terraces of Zar,we beheld on the distant horizon ahead the spires of a mighty city; andthe bearded man said to me, "This is Thalarion, the City of a ThousandWonders, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vainto fathom." And I looked again, at closer range, and saw that the citywas greater than any city I had known or dreamed of before. Into the skythe spires of its temples reached, so that no man might behold theirpeaks; and far back beyond the horizon stretched the grim, grey walls,over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yetadorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. I yearned mightily toenter this fascinating yet repellent city, and beseeched the bearded manto land me at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but hegently denied my wish, saying, "Into Thalarion, the City of a ThousandWonders, many have passed but none returned. Therein walk only daemonsand mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white withthe unburied bones of those who have looked upon the eidolon Lathi, thatreigns over the city." So the White Ship sailed on past the walls ofThalarion, and followed for many days a southward-flying bird, whoseglossy plumage matched the sky out of which it had appeared.
Then came we to a pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue, whereas far inland as we could see basked lovely groves and radiant arboursbeneath a meridian sun. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of songand snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter sodelicious that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach thescene. And the bearded man spoke no word, but watched me as weapproached the lily-lined shore. Suddenly a wind blowing from over theflowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Thewind grew stronger, and the air was filled with the lethal, charnelodour of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. And as wesailed madly away from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke atlast, saying, "This is Xura, the Land of Pleasures Unattained."
So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven, over warmblessed seas fanned by caressing, aromatic breezes. Day after day andnight after night did we sail, and when the moon was full we wouldlisten to soft songs of the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night whenwe sailed away from my far native land. And it was by moonlight that weanchored at last in the harbour of Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twinheadlands of crystal that rise from the sea and meet in a resplendentarch. This is the Land of Fancy, and we walked to the verdant shore upona golden bridge of moonbeams.
In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neithersuffering nor death; and there I dwelt for many aeons. Green are thegroves and pastures, bright and fragrant the flowers, blue and musicalthe streams, clear and cool the fountains, and stately and gorgeous thetemples, castles, and cities of Sona-Nyl. Of that land there is nobound, for beyond each vista of beauty rises another more beautiful.Over the countryside and amidst the splendour of cities can move at willthe happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyedhappiness. For the aeons that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully throughgardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, andwhere the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. I climbedgentle hills from whose summits I could see entrancing panoramas ofloveliness, with steepled towns nestling in verdant valleys, and withthe golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the infinitely distanthorizon. And I viewed by moonlight the sparkling sea, the crystalheadlands, and the placid harbour wherein lay anchored the White Ship.
It was against the full moon one night in the immemorial year of Tharpthat I saw outlined the beckoning form of the celestial bird, and feltthe first stirrings of unrest. Then I spoke with the bearded man, andtold him of my new yearning to depart for remote Cathuria, which no manhath seen, but which all believe to lie beyond the basalt pillars of theWest. It is the Land of Hope, and in it shine the perfect ideals of allthat we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. But the bearded mansaid to me, "Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathurialies. In Sona-Nyl there is no pain nor death, but who can tell what liesbeyond the basalt pillars of the West?" Natheless at the next full moonI boarded the White Ship, and with the reluctant bearded man left thehappy harbour for untravelled seas.
And the bird of heaven flew before, and led us toward the basalt pillarsof the West, but this time the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the fu
llmoon. In my mind I would often picture the unknown Land of Cathuria withits splendid groves and palaces, and would wonder what new delightsthere awaited me. "Cathuria," I would say to myself, "is the abode ofgods and the land of unnumbered cities of gold. Its forests are of aloeand sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and among thetrees flutter gay birds sweet with song. On the green and flowerymountains of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven andpainted glories, and having in their courtyards cool fountains ofsilver, where purl with ravishing music the scented waters that comefrom the grotto-born river Narg. And the cities of Cathuria arecinctured with golden walls, and their pavements are also of gold. Inthe gardens of these cities are strange orchids, and perfumed lakeswhose beds are of coral and amber. At night the streets and the gardensare lit with gay lanthorns fashioned from three-coloured shell of thetortoise, and here resound the soft notes of the singer and thelutanist. And the houses of the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, eachbuilt over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the sacred Narg. Ofmarble and porphyry are the houses, and roofed with glittering goldthat reflects the rays of the sun and enhances the splendour of thecities as blissful gods view them from the distant peaks. Fairest of allis the palace of the great monarch Dorieb, whom some say to be a demigodand others a god. High is the palace of Dorieb, and many are the turretsof marble upon its walls. In its wide halls may multitudes assemble, andhere hang the trophies of the ages. And the roof is of pure gold, setupon tall pillars of ruby and azure, and having such carven figures ofgods and heroes that he who looks up to those heights seem to gaze uponthe living Olympus. And the floor of the palace is of glass, under whichflow the cunningly lighted waters of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish notknown beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria."
Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, but ever would the bearded manwarn me to turn back to the happy shores of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl isknown of men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.
And on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird, we beheld thebasalt pillars of the West. Shrouded in mist they were, so that no manmight peer beyond them or see their summits--which indeed some say reacheven to the heavens. And the bearded man again implored me to turn back,but I heeded him not; for from the mists beyond the basalt pillars Ifancied there came the notes of singer and lutanist; sweeter than thesweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, and sounding mine own praises; the praisesof me, who had voyaged far under the full moon and dwelt in the Land ofFancy.
So to the sound of melody the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixtthe basalt pillars of the West. And when the music ceased and the mistlifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria, but a swift-rushingresistless sea, over which our helpless barque was borne toward someunknown goal. Soon to our ears came the distant thunder of fallingwaters, and to our eyes appeared on the far horizon ahead the titanicspray of a monstrous cataract, wherein the oceans of the world drop downto abysmal nothingness. Then did the bearded man say to me with tears onhis cheek, "We have rejected the beautiful Land of Sona-Nyl, which wemay never behold again. The gods are greater than men, and they haveconquered." And I closed my eyes before the crash that I knew wouldcome, shutting out the sight of the celestial bird which flapped itsmocking blue wings over the brink of the torrent.
Out of that crash came darkness, and I heard the shrieking of men and ofthings which were not men. From the East tempestuous winds arose, andchilled me as I crouched on the slab of damp stone which had risenbeneath my feet. Then as I heard another crash I opened my eyes andbeheld myself upon the platform of that lighthouse from whence I hadsailed so many aeons ago. In the darkness below there loomed the vastblurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the cruel rocks, and as Iglanced out over the waste I saw that the light had failed for the firsttime since my grandfather had assumed its care.
And in the later watches of the night, when I went within the tower, Isaw on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I had left it atthe hour I sailed away. With the dawn I descended the tower and lookedfor wreckage upon the rocks, but what I found was only this: a strangedead bird whose hue was as of the azure sky, and a single shatteredspar, of a whiteness greater than that of the wave-tips or of themountain snow.
And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and though manytimes since has the moon shone full and high in the heavens, the WhiteShip from the South came never again.
TO MISTRESS SOPHIA SIMPLE, QUEEN OF THE CINEMA
(With humblest apologies to Randolph St. John, Gent.)
L. Theobald, Jun.
Before our sight your mobile face Depicts your joys or woes distracting; We marvel at your winsome grace-- And wish you'd learn the art of acting!
Your eyes, we vow, surpass the stars; Your mouth is like the bow of Cupid; Your rose-ting'd cheeks no wrinkle mars-- Yet why are you so sweetly stupid?
The hero views you with delight, To win your hand forever working; We pity him--the witless wight-- To fall a victim to your smirking!
And yet, why should we wail in rhyme Because so crudely you dissemble? We can't expect for one small dime, To see a Woffington or Kemble!