Lovecraft, H P - The White Ship

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The White Ship

by H. P. Lovecraft

Written November 1919

Published November 1919 in The United Amateur, Vol. 19, No. 2, p. 30-33.

I am Basil Elton, keeper of the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept

before me. Far from the shore stands the gray lighthouse, 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 have swept the majestic barques of the seven seas. In the days of my grandfather

there were many; in the days of my father not so many; and now there are so few that I

sometimes feel strangely alone, as though I were the last man on our planet.

From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where

warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. The old

captains of the sea came often to my grandfather and told him of these things which in

turn he told to my father, and my father told to me in the long autumn evenings when the

wind howled eerily from the East. And I have read more of these things, and of many

things besides, in the books men gave me when I was young and filled with wonder.

But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of

ocean. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is

not silent. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and I know it well. At first it

told to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but with the years it

grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in

space and time. Sometimes at twilight the gray vapors of the horizon have parted to grant

me glimpses of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the sea have

grown clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the ways beneath. And these

glimpses have been as often of the ways that were and the ways that might be, as of the

ways that are; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the

memories and the dreams of Time.

Out of the South it was that the White Ship used to come when the moon was full and

high in the heavens. Out of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently over the

sea. And whether the sea was rough or calm, and whether the wind was friendly or

adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange

tiers of oars moving rhythmically. One night I espied upon the deck a man, bearded and

robed, and he seemed to beckon me to embark for far unknown shores. Many times

afterward I saw him under the full moon, and never did he beckon me.

Very brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered the call, and I walked 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 I seemed to know well, and the hours

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Lovecraft, H P - The White Ship

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