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25. A Coffin for the Living | Act IV: The Last Ways Home

V6

[The Scene] Following Ahab’s reluctant agreement to repair the leaking oil casks, the Pequod continues her voyage, but a more personal crisis now threatens Ishmael. Queequeg falls gravely ill, his once formidable strength fading until he believes death is approaching. Accepting his condition with quiet dignity, he asks the ship’s carpenter to build him a coffin, while Ishmael remains anxiously beside his friend. Yet as the coffin is completed, Queequeg unexpectedly begins to recover, gradually regaining his strength and determination to live. The two friends are spared an early separation, while the unused coffin remains aboard the ship, awaiting an unforeseen purpose. [Verse 1] I hear the timbers labour overhead, While fever holds me helpless in my bed. I knew my strength upon the open sea, Yet now my hands can scarcely answer me. [Verse 2] With quiet words I make my last request, A coffin built of boards in which to rest. I hear the carpenter's slow hammer beat, And wait until his measured work's complete. [Chorus] A coffin waits beside my narrow bed, Its boards are shaped to shelter me when dead. I feel the dark approaching as I lie, Yet something in me longs for open sky. [Verse 3] I see my friend sit quietly at my side, The one who held my lifeline by the tide. He brings me water through the fading light, And stays beside me deep into the night. [Verse 4] The scent of fresh-cut timber fills the air, Its fitted boards are waiting by me there. The ship moves onward through the rolling deep, While I grow quiet, near enough to sleep. [Chorus] A coffin waits beside my narrow bed, Its boards are shaped to shelter me when dead. I feel the dark approaching as I lie, Yet something in me longs for open sky. [Verse 5] A gentler morning touches plank and door, I lift my head and see the light once more. The fever loosens like a falling tide, And I feel life returning deep inside. [Verse 6] I rise with care and stand beside the rail, And feel the breeze against the swelling sail. I see my friend, his worried eyes grow bright, And know I mean to live and greet the light. [Chorus] The coffin waits, its boards are strong and sound, Yet I stand firm upon the moving ground. I reach for Ishmael's hand, both warm and true, And find another morning breaking through. [Outro] Beside my berth the silent coffin stays, While I take back the labour of my days. Its wood is still; the tide beneath me flows, And in my chest the will to live still grows.