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.
Using an asterisk (*) will increase the odds of finding the results you are seeking. For example: Fight*. The search results will display every instance of fight, fights, fighting, etc. More than one wildcard may be used. For example: *ricar*. This search will return most references to the Aricara tribe, including Ricara, Ricares, Aricaris, Ricaries, Ricaree, Ricareis, and Ricarra. Using a question mark (?) instead of an asterisk (*) will allow you to search for a single character. For example, r?n will find all instances of ran and run, but will not find rain or ruin.
Searches are not case sensitive. For example: george will come up with the same results as George.
Searching for a specific phrase may help narrow down the results. Rather long phrases are no problem. For example: "This white pudding we all esteem".
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-# |
Loud I call to you, my love!
who I am, my love.
Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors, Of the few, very choice, taciturn
rest, A spiritual woven signal for all nations, emblem of man elate above death, Token of all brave captains
and mates, And all that went down doing their duty, Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains
Loud I call to you, my love!
who I am, my love.
Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors, Of the few, very choice, taciturn
rest, A spiritual woven signal for all nations, emblem of man elate above death, Token of all brave captains
and mates, And all that went down doing their duty, Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains
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!
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain, and the sailors
body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me
and which are my miracles?
WHO learns my lesson complete?
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chained with iron, or my ankles with iron?
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
bit of pathos—indubitably human—in my eye, confess now am I not a man and a brother?"
place, with my own day, here."
my dwell- dwelling .)"
'O the life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh.'
my South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!"
my South!O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!"
- ward southward , Alone, held by this eternal self of me, out of the pride of which I have utter'd my
Fascinated, my eyes, reverting from the south, drop't, to follow those slender winrows, Chaff, straw,
I take what is underfoot; What is yours is mine, my father.
I throw myself upon your breast, my father, I cling to you so that you cannot unloose me, I hold you
from my dead lips the ooze exuding at last! See—the prismatic colors, glistening and rolling!)
Fascinated, my eyes reverting from the south, dropt, to follow those slender windrows, Chaff, straw,
O baffled, balk'd, bent to the very earth, Oppress'd with myself that I have dared to open my mouth,
whose echoes recoil upon me I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
sight of the sea taking advantage of me to dart upon me and sting me, Because I have dared to open my
Me and mine, loose windrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See, from my dead lips
Fascinated, my eyes reverting from the south, dropt, to follow those slender windrows, Chaff, straw,
O baffled, balk'd, bent to the very earth, Oppress'd with myself that I have dared to open my mouth,
whose echoes recoil upon me I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
sight of the sea taking advantage of me to dart upon me and sting me, Because I have dared to open my
Me and mine, loose windrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See, from my dead lips
Fascinated, my eyes, reverting from the south, dropped, to follow those slender winrows, Chaff, straw
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Oppressed with myself that I have dared to open my
I take what is underfoot; What is yours is mine, my father.
I throw myself upon your breast, my father, I cling to you so that you cannot unloose me, I hold you
from my dead lips the ooze exuding at last! See—the prismatic colors, glistening and rolling!)
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Terrified with myself that I have dared to open my
whose echoes recoil upon me, I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me!