- description
- # THE BERG
## Overview
"THE BERG" is a chapter within the poetry collection "[John Marr and Other Poems](arke:01KG8AJ5CWVMSM9AY2938E996H)". It is a poem that appears to be a dreamlike narrative, describing a ship's fatal encounter with a large iceberg. The text spans lines 1395 to 1442 of its source file.
## Context
This chapter was extracted from the file "[john_marr_and_other_poems.txt](arke:01KG89J19Y3FNVN5KWASY78BP4)", which is part of the larger "[Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW)" collection. It follows the chapter "[CROSSING THE TROPICS](arke:01KG8AJFSE9ZE0XN0RRZ9EWD41)" and precedes the chapter "[THE ENVIABLE ISLES](arke:01KG8AJGG0DGFG3Z17AV1GBXY8)".
## Contents
The poem "THE BERG" uses vivid imagery to depict a ship, described as having "martial build," that deliberately steers towards a "stolid iceberg." Despite the impact, which causes ice to crash onto the deck, the iceberg itself remains largely unaffected. The poem emphasizes the immense, cold, and seemingly indifferent nature of the iceberg, contrasting it with the doomed vessel. It details how the surrounding ice formations, gulls, seals, and even small ice structures are undisturbed by the ship's destruction, highlighting the iceberg's stoic and overwhelming presence. The poem concludes with a reflection on the iceberg's inevitable dissolution into the sea.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:09.419Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- THE BERG
- end_line
- 1442
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:32.310Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1395
- text
- THE BERG
_A Dream_
I saw a ship of martial build
(Her standards set, her brave apparel on)
Directed as by madness mere
Against a stolid iceberg steer,
Nor budge it, though the infatuate ship went down.
The impact made huge ice-cubes fall
Sullen, in tons that crashed the deck;
But that one avalanche was all
No other movement save the foundering wreck.
Along the spurs of ridges pale,
Not any slenderest shaft and frail,
A prism over glass—green gorges lone,
Toppled; nor lace of traceries fine,
Nor pendant drops in grot or mine
Were jarred, when the stunned ship went down.
Nor sole the gulls in cloud that wheeled
Circling one snow-flanked peak afar,
But nearer fowl the floes that skimmed
And crystal beaches, felt no jar.
No thrill transmitted stirred the lock
Of jack-straw needle-ice at base;
Towers undermined by waves—the block
Atilt impending—kept their place.
Seals, dozing sleek on sliddery ledges
Slipt never, when by loftier edges
Through very inertia overthrown,
The impetuous ship in bafflement went down.
Hard Berg (methought), so cold, so vast,
With mortal damps self-overcast;
Exhaling still thy dankish breath—
Adrift dissolving, bound for death;
Though lumpish thou, a lumbering one—
A lumbering lubbard loitering slow,
Impingers rue thee and go down,
Sounding thy precipice below,
Nor stir the slimy slug that sprawls
Along thy dense stolidity of walls.
- title
- THE BERG