The White Ship

This is an Anglish of The White Ship by H. P. Lovecraft. This reading is made of only Old English-sprung words, other than things that Old English did not have words for, such as basalt, and any words with unknown backgrounds. by Wordwork.

English Spelling
I am Basil Elton, keeper of the North light that my father and  kept before me. Far from the shore stands the grey lighthouse, above sunken slimy that are seen when the tide is low, but unseen when the tide is high. that beacon for a have swept the   of the seven seas. In the days of my there were many; in the days of my father not so many; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel  alone, as though I were the last man on our.

From far shores came those white-sailed of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet  linger about   and. The old of the sea came often to my  and told him of these things, which in  he told to my father, and my father told to me in the long  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 lore of. , green, grey, white, or black; smooth, ruffled, or ; that is not. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and I know it well. At first it told to me only the little tales of calm beaches and near, but with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more  and more  in  and in time. Sometimes at twilight the grey of the  have  to  me glimpses of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the sea have grown  and, to  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 is more  than the, and  with the  and the dreams of Time.

Out of the South it was that the White Ship come when the moon was full and high in the heavens. Out of the South it would glide smoothly and  over the sea. And whether the sea was rough or calm, and whether the wind was friendly or, it would always glide smoothly and , its sails and its long   of oars. One night I upon the  a man, bearded and, and he  to beckon me to  for fair unknown shores. Many times afterward I saw him under the full moon, and ever did he beckon me.

brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered the, 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 I  to know well, and the  were filled with soft songs of the oarsmen as we glided away into a  South, golden with the glow of that full, mellow moon.

And when the day dawned, rosy and, I beheld the green shore of far lands, bright and , and to me unknown. Up from the sea rose lordly of, tree-studded, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and  of. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man told me of that land, the Land of Zar, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when I looked upon the  I saw that what he said was true, for among the sights before me were many things I had once seen through the mists beyond the  and in the  depths of. There too were and  more  than any I had ever known; the  of young  who  in  before the world could learn of what  had seen and dreamed. But we did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is told that he who treads may nevermore  to his  shore.

As the White Ship sailed away from the   of Zar, we beheld on the   ahead the spires of a mighty ; and the bearded man said to me: “This is Thalarion, the  of a Thousand Wonders, wherein  all those  that man has   to fathom.” And I looked, at  , and saw that the  was greater than any  I had known or dreamed of before. Into the the spires of its  reached, so that no man might behold  ; and far back beyond the  stretched the grim, grey walls, over which one might  only a few roofs, weird and, yet  with rich  and. I yearned mightily to this  yet , and besought the bearded man to land me at the stone  by the  carven gate Akariel; but he   my wish, saying: “Into Thalarion, the  of a Thousand Wonders, many have  but none. Therein walk only and mad things that are no longer men, and the streets are white with the unburied bones of those who have looked upon the  Lathi, that  over the .” So the White Ship sailed on  the walls of Thalarion, and followed for many days a southward-flying bird, whose   matched the  out of which it had.

Then came we to a   with blossoms of every hue, where as far inland as we could see basked lovely groves and   beneath a  sun. From bowers beyond our came bursts of song and snatches of ,  with  laughter so  that I  the rowers onward in my  to reach the. And the bearded man spoke no word, but watched me as we the lily-lined shore. , a wind blowing from over the meadows and leafy woods brought a  at which I. The wind grew stronger, and the was filled with the,   of -stricken towns and. And as we sailed madly away from that  the bearded man spoke at last, saying: “This is Xura, the Land of  .”

So once more the White Ship followed the bird of heaven, over warm blessed seas fanned by, breezes. Day after day and night after night did we sail, and when the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the oarsmen, sweet as on that night when we sailed away from my far. And it was by moonlight that we at last in the harbour of Sona-Nyl, which is  by twin headlands of  that rise from the sea and meet in a. This is the Land of, and we walked to the shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams.

In the Land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor, neither suffering nor death; and there I dwelt for many. Green are the groves and, bright and the ,  and  the streams,  and cool the , and  and  the , , and  of Sona-Nyl. Of that land there is no bound, for beyond each of  rises another more. Over the and amidst the  of  rove at will the  folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred  and. For the that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through  where   peep from   of bushes, and where the white walks are  with  blossoms. I climbed hills from whose  I could see   of loveliness, with steepled towns nestling in , and with the golden  of   glittering on the. And I by moonlight the sparkling sea, the  headlands, and the  harbour wherein lay  the White Ship.

It was the full moon one night in the  year of Tharp that I saw outlined the beckoning  of the  bird, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. Then I spoke with the bearded man, and told him of my new yearnings to for  Cathuria, which no man hath seen, but which all believe to lie beyond the basalt  of the West. It is the Land of Hope, and in it shine the  of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men. But the bearded man said to me: “Beware of those seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. In Sona-Nyl there is no nor death, but who can tell what lies beyond the basalt  of the West?” Natheless at the next full moon I boarded the White Ship, and with the  bearded man left the  harbour for  seas.

And the bird of heaven flew before, and led us toward the basalt of the West, but this time the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the full moon. In my mind I would often the unknown Land of Cathuria with its  groves and, and would wonder what new  there  me. “Cathuria,” I would say to myself, “is the abode of gods and the land of  of gold. Its are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the  groves of Camorin, and among the trees flutter  birds sweet with song. On the green and  of Cathuria stand  of , rich with carven and  , and having in   cool  of silver, where purl with   the  waters that come from the -born  Narg. And the of Cathuria are  with golden walls, and   also are of gold. In the of these  are , and  lakes whose beds are of coral and. At night the streets and the are lit with    from the three- shell of the, and here  the soft  of the singer and the. And the houses of the of Cathuria are all, each built over a   bearing the waters of the  Narg. Of and porphyry are the houses, and roofed with glittering gold that  the  of the sun and  the  of the  as blissful gods   from the. Fairest of all is the of the great  Dorieb, whom some say to be a  and others a god. High is the of Dorieb, and many are the  of  upon its walls. In its wide halls many, and here hang the  of the. And the roof is of gold, set upon tall  of  and, and having such carven  of gods and  that he who looks up to those heights  to  upon the living Olympus. And the floor of the is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the Narg,  with  fish not known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.”

Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, but ever would the bearded man warn me to back to the  shores of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl is known of men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.

And on the thirty-first day that we followed the bird, we beheld the basalt of the West. Shrouded in mist were, so that no man might  beyond  or see   — which indeed some say reach even to the heavens. And the bearded man  me to  back, but I heeded him not; for from the mists beyond the basalt  I  there came the  of singer and ; sweeter than the sweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, and  mine own ; the  of me, who had  far under the full moon and dwelt in the Land of.



So to the of  the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt  of the West. And when the  and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria, but a swift-  sea, over which our helpless  was borne toward some unknown goal. Soon to our ears came the thunder of falling waters, and to our eyes  on the far  ahead the  spray of a , wherein the  of the world drop down to  nothingness. Then did the bearded man say to me with tears on his cheek: “We have the  Land of Sona-Nyl, which we may never behold |. The gods are greater than men, and have .” And I  my eyes before the crash that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the  bird which flapped its   wings over the  of the.

Out of that crash came darkness, and I heard the of men and of things which were not men. From the East winds arose, and chilled me as I  on the  of  stone which had risen beneath my feet. Then as I heard another crash I opened my eyes and beheld myself upon the of that lighthouse from whence I had sailed so many  ago. In the darkness below there loomed the blurred outlines of a  breaking up on the , and as I  out over the  I saw that the light had  for the first time since my  had  its care.

And in the later watches of the night, when I went within the tower, I saw on the wall a which still  as when I had left it at the  I sailed away. With the dawn I the tower and looked for  upon the, but what I found was only this:  dead bird whose hue was as of the  , and a  shattered , of a whiteness greater than that of the wave-tips or of the  snow.

And thereafter the told me its  no more; and though many times since has the moon shone full and high in the heavens, the White Ship from the South came never.

Anglisc Spelling
I am Basil Elton, keeper of the Norþ lite þat my faþer and  kept before me. Far from þe score stands þe grey litehuse, abuf sunken slimy þat are seen hwen þe tide is low, but unseen hwen þe tide is hie. þat beaken for a haf swept þe   of þe sefen seas. In þe days of my þere were many; in þe days of my faþer not so many; and now þere are so few þat I sometimes feel  alone, as þow I were þe last man on ure.

From far scores came þose hwite-sailed of old; from far Eastern scores hwere warm suns scine and sweet  linger abute   and. Þe old of þe sea came often to my  and told him of þese þings, hwic in  he told to my faþer, and my faþer told to me in the long  efenings hwen þe wind huled eerily from þe East. And I haf red more of þese þings, and of many þings besides, in þe books men gafe me hwen I was yung and filled wiþ wonder.

But more wonderful þan þe lore of old men and þe lore of books is þe lore of. Hewn, green, grey, hwite, or black; smooþ, ruffled, or ; þat is not. All my days haf I waced it and listened to it, and I cnow it well. At first it told to me only þe littel tales of calm beeces and near, but wiþ þe years it grew more frendly and spoke of oþer þings; of þings more  and more  in  and in time. Sumtimes at twilite þe grey of þe  haf  to  me glimpses of þe ways beyond; and sumtimes at nite þe deep waters of þe sea haf grown  and, to  me glimpses of þe ways beneeþ. And þese glimpses haf been as often of þe ways þat were and þe ways þat mite be, as of þe ways þat are; for is more  þan þe, and  wiþ þe  and þe dreams of Time.

Ute of þe Suþe it was þat þe Hwite Scip cum hwen þe moon was full and hie in þe hefens. Ute of þe Suþe it woold glide smooþly and  ofer þe sea. And hweþer þe sea was ruff or calm, and hweþer þe wind was frendly or, it woold always glide smooþly and , its sails and its long   of oars. Wun nite I upon þe  a man, bearded and, and he  to beckon me to  for fair uncnown scores. Many times afterward I saw him under þe full moon, and efer did he beckon me.

britely did þe moon scine on þe nite I answered þe, and I walked ute ofer þe waters to þe Hwite Scip on a bricg of moonbeams. Þe man who had beckoned now spoke a welcum to me in a soft I  to cnow well, and þe  were filled wiþ soft songs of þe oarsmen as we glided away into a  Suþe, golden wiþ þe glow of þat full, mellow moon.

And hwen þe day dawned, rosy and, I beheld þe green score of far lands, brite and , and to me uncnown. Up from þe sea rose lordly of, tree-studded, and scewing here and þere þe gleeming hwite roofs and  of. As we drew nearer þe green score þe bearded man told me of þat land, þe Land of Zar, hwere dwell all þe dreams and þawts of þat cum to men wuns and þen are forgotten. And hwen I looked upon þe  I saw þat hwat he said was trew, for among the sites before me were many þings I had wuns seen þrew þe mists beyond þe  and in þe  depþs of. Þere too were and  more  þan any I had efer cnown; þe  of yung  hwo  in  before þe world coold lern of hwat  had seen and dreamed. But we did not set foot upon þe sloping medows of Zar, for it is told þat he hwo treds may nefermore  to his  score.

As þe Hwite Scip sailed away from þe   of Zar, we beheld on þe   ahed þe spires of a mitey ; and þe bearded man said to me: “Þiss is Þalarion, þe  of a Þusand Wonders, hwerein  all þose  þat man has   to faþom.” And I looked, at  , and saw þat þe  was greater þan any  I had cnown or dreamed of before. Into þe þe spires of its  reeced, so þat no man mite behold  ; and far back beyond þe  streced þe grim, grey walls, ofer hwic wun mite  only a few roofs, weerd and, yet  with ric  and. I yerned miteily to þiss  yet , and besawt þe bearded man to land me at þe stone  by þe  carfen gate Akariel; but he   my wisc, saying: “Into Þalarion, þe  of a Þusand Wonders, many haf  but none. Þerein walk only and mad þings þat are no longer men, and þe streets are hwite wiþ þe unberried bones of þose hwo haf looked upon þe  Laþi, þat  ofer þe .” So þe Hwite Scip sailed on  þe walls of Þalarion, and followed for many days a suþeward-flying bird, hwos   maced þe  ute of hwic it had.

Þen came we to a   wiþ blossoms of efery hew, hwere as far inland as we coold see basked lufly grofes and   beneeþ a  sun. From bowers beyond our came bursts of song and snaces of ,  wiþ  lafter so  þat I  þe rowers onward in my  to reec þe. And þe bearded man spoke no word, but waced me as we þe lily-lined score. , a wind blowing from ofer þe medows and leaffy woods brawt a  at hwic I. Þe wind grew stronger, and þe was filled wiþ þe,   of -stricken tunes and. And as we sailed madly away from þat  þe bearded man spoke at last, saying: “Þiss is Xura, Þe Land of  .”

So wuns more þe Hwite Scip followed þe bird of hefen, ofer warm blessed seas fanned by, breeses. Day after day and nite after nite did we sail, and hwen þe moon was full we woold listen to soft songs of þe oarsmen, sweet as on þat nite hwen we sailed away from my far. And it was by moonlite þat we at last in þe harber of Sona-Nyl, hwic is  by twin hedlands of  þat rise from þe sea and meet in a. Þiss is þe Land of, and we walked to þe score upon a golden bricg of moonbeams.

In þe Land of Sona-Nyl þere is neiþer time nor, neiþer suffering nor deþ; and þere I dwelt for many. Green are þe grofes and, brite and þe ,  and  þe streams,  and cool þe , and  and  þe , , and  of Sona-Nyl. Of þat land þere is no bund, for beyond ece of  rises anoþer more. Ofer þe and amidst þe  of  rofe at will þe  folk, of hwom all are yifted wiþ unmarred  and. For þe þat I dwelt þere I wandered blissfully þrew  hwere   peep from   of busces, and hwere þe hwite walks are  wiþ  blossoms. I climbed hills from hwose  I coold see   of lufliness, wiþ steepled tunes nestling in , and wiþ þe golden  of   glittering on þe. And I by moonlite þe sparkling sea, þe  hedlands, and þe  harber hwerein lay  þe Hwite Scip.

It was þe full moon wun nite in þe  year of Þarp þat I saw utelined þe beckoning  of þe  bird, and felt the first stirrings of unrest. Þen I spoke wiþ þe bearded man, and told him of my new yernings to for  Caþuria, hwic no man haþ seen, but hwic all belefe to lie beyond þe basalt  of þe West. It is þe Land of Hope, and in it scine þe  of all þat we cnow elshwere; or at lest so men. But þe bearded man said to me: “Beware of þose seas hwerein men say Caþuria lies. In Sona-Nyl þere is no nor deþ, but hwo can tell hwat lies beyond þe basalt  of þe West?” Naþeless at þe next full moon I boarded þe Hwite Scip, and wiþ þe  bearded man left þe  harber for  seas.

And þe bird of hefen flew before, and led us toward þe basalt of þe West, but þiss time þe oarsmen sang no soft songs under þe full moon. In my mind I woold often þe uncnown Land of Caþuria wiþ its  grofes and, and woold wonder hwat new  þere  me. “Caþuria,” I woold say to myself, “is þe abode of gods and þe land of  of gold. Its are of aloe and sandalwood, efen as þe  grofes of Camorin, and among þe trees flutter  birds sweet wiþ song. On þe green and  of Caþuria stand  of , ric wiþ carfen and  , and hafing in   cool  of silfer, hwere purl wiþ   þe  waters þat come from the -born  Narg. And þe of Caþuria are  wiþ golden walls, and   also are of gold. In þe of þese  are , and  lakes hwose beds are of coral and. At nite þe streets and þe are lit wiþ    from þe þree- scell of þe, and here  þe soft  of þe singer and þe. And þe huses of þe of Caþuria are all, ece bilt ofer a   bering þe waters of þe  Narg. Of and porfyry are þe huses, and roofed wiþ glittering gold þat  þe  of þe sun and  þe  of þe  as blissful gods   from þe. Fairest of all is þe of þe great  Dorieb, hwom sum say to be a  and oþers a god. Hie is þe of Dorieb, and many are þe  of  upon its walls. In its wide halls many, and here hang þe  of þe. And þe roof is of gold, set upon tall  of  and, and hafing suc carfen  of gods and  þat he hwo looks up to þose hites seems to  upon þe lifing Olympus. And þe floor of þe is of glass, under hwic flow þe cunningly lited waters of þe Narg,  wiþ  fisc not cnown beyond þe bunds of lufly Caþuria.”

Þus woold I speke to myself of Caþuria, but efer woold þe bearded man warn me to back to þe  scores of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl is cnown of men, hwile none haþ efer beheld Cathuria.

And on the þirty-first day þat we followed þe bird, we beheld þe basalt of þe West. Scruded in mist were, so þat no man mite  beyond  or see   — hwic indeed sum say reec efen to þe hefens. And þe bearded man  me to  back, but I heeded him not; for from þe mists beyond þe basalt  I  þere came þe  of singer and ; sweeter þan þe sweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, and  mine own ; þe  of me, hwo had  far under þe full moon and dwelt in þe Land of.



So to þe of  þe Hwite Scip sailed into þe mist betwixt þe basalt  of þe West. And hwen þe  and þe mist lifted, we beheld not þe Land of Caþuria, but a swift-  sea, ofer hwic ure helpless  was borne toward sum uncnown gole. Soon to ure ears came þe þunder of falling waters, and to ure eyes  on þe far  ahed þe  spray of a , hwerein þe  of þe world drop down to  noþingness. Þen did þe bearded man say to me wiþ tears on his ceeck: “We haf þe  Land of Sona-Nyl, hwic we may nefer behold. Þe gods are greater þan men, and haf .” And I  my eyes before þe crasc þat I cnew woold cum, scutting ute þe site of þe  bird hwic flapped its   wings ofer þe  of þe.

Ute of þat crasc came darkness, and I herd þe of men and of þings hwic were not men. From þe East winds arose, and cilled me as I  on þe  of  stone hwic had risen beneeþ my feet. Þen as I herd anoþer crasc I opened my eyes and beheld myself upon þe of þat litehuse from hwens I had sailed so many  ago. In þe darkness below þere loomed þe blurred utelines of a  breaking up on þe , and as I  ute ofer þe  I saw þat þe lite had  for þe first time sins my  had  its care.

And in þe later waces of þe nite, hwen I went wiþin þe tower, I saw on þe wall a hwic still  as hwen I had left it at þe  I sailed away. Wiþ þe dawn I þe tower and looked for  upon þe, but hwat I fund was only þiss:  ded bird hwos hew was as of þe  , and a  scattered , of a hwiteness greater þan þat of þe wafe-tips or of þe  snow.

And þereafter þe told me its  no more; and þow many times sins has þe moon scon full and hie in þe hefens, þe Hwite Scip from þe Suþe came nefer.