Simply enter the word you wish to find and the search engine will search for every instance of the word in the journals. For example: Fight. All instances of the use of the word fight will show up on the results page.
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Because of the creative spellings used by the journalists, it may be necessary to try your search multiple times. For example: P?ro*. This search brings up numerous variant spellings of the French word pirogue, "a large dugout canoe or open boat." Searching for P?*r*og?* will bring up other variant spellings. Searching for canoe or boat also may be helpful.
| Entering in only one field | Searches |
|---|---|
| Year, Month, & Day | Single day |
| Year & Month | Whole month |
| Year | Whole year |
| Month & Day | 1600-#-# to 2100-#-# |
| Month | 1600-#-1 to 2100-#-31 |
| Day | 1600-01-# to 2100-12-# |
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,(says my grandmother's father;) We have
my Captain!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 1 O CAPTAIN! my captain!
Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies.
Fallen cold and dead. 2 O captain! my captain!
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the can- non cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries
Only three guns are in use; One is directed by the captain himself against the ene- my's enemy's main-mast
Serene stands the little captain; He is not hurried—his voice is neither high nor low; His eyes give
The black ship, mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her turrets—but the pluck of the captain and engineers
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his own hands.
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Only three guns were in use, One was directed by the captain himself against the enemy's main-mast, Two
Serene stood the little captain, He was not hurried—his voice was neither high nor low, His eyes gave
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain, and the sailors
New Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships when the sailors heave at the capstan; Evening—me in my
room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies,
freedom, futurity, In space the sporades, the scatter'd islands, the stars—on the firm earth, the lands, my
thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
ever-united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made out of a thousand diverse
New Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships when the sailors heave at the capstan; Evening—me in my
room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies,
freedom, futurity, In space the sporades, the scatter'd islands, the stars—on the firm earth, the lands, my
thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
ever-united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made out of a thousand diverse
New Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships, when the sailors heave at the capstan; Evening—me in my
room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing me flies, suspended,
, futurity, In space, the sporades, the scattered islands, the stars —on the firm earth, the lands, my
less in myself than the whole of the Manna- hatta Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
ever united lands —my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made one identity, any more
Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships, when the sailors heave at the capstan; —Evening—me in my
room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies,
, futurity, In space, the sporades, the scatter'd islands, the stars— on the firm earth, the lands, my
thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
my lands are inevitably united, and made ONE IDENTITY; Nativities, climates, the grass of the great
New Orleans, San Francisco, The departing ships, when the sailors heave at the capstan; Evening—me in my
room—the setting sun, The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies,
, futurity, In space, the sporades, the scattered islands, the stars —on the firm earth, the lands, my
less in myself than the whole of the Manna- hatta Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my
my lands are inevitably united, and made ONE IDENTITY; Nativities, climates, the grass of the great
Have you studied out MY LAND, its idioms and men?
What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?
in your and my name, the Present time.
Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully
To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- colored flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous