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A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man and all the instruments and books of the earth
season of every year of your life, re examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book
My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality; This printed and bound book . . . . but
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway
or man that has been in prison or is likely to be in prison?
A single glance of it mocks all the investigations of man and all the instruments and books of the earth
season of every year of your life, re examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book
rages with many a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat . . . . the enemy triumphs . . . . the prison
In paintings or mouldings or carvings in mineral or wood, or in the illustrations of books or newspapers
discreditable means . . not any nastiness of appetite . . not any harshness of officers to men or judges to prisoners
second or third hand . . . . nor look through the eyes of the dead . . . . nor feed on the spectres in books
wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, or artist . . . . a gentleman, sailor, lover or quaker, A prisoner
great authors and schools, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books
I become any presence or truth of humanity here, And see myself in prison shaped like another man, And
My words are words of a questioning, and to indicate reality; This printed and bound book . . . . but
printed or preached or discussed . . . . it eludes discussion and print, It is not to be put in a book
. . . . it is not in this book, It is for you whoever you are . . . . it is no farther from you than
write what we think . . . . yet very faintly; The directory, the detector, the ledger . . . . the books
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison . . . . the runaway
and the master salutes the slave, The felon steps forth from the prison . . . . the insane becomes sane
by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor . . . . all falls aside but myself and it, Books
Books friendships philosophers priests action pleasure pride beat up and down seeking to give satisfaction
or man that has been in prison or is likely to be in prison?
Great are marriage, commerce, newspapers, books, freetrade, railroads, steamers, international mails
I see the menials of the earth, laboring, I see the prisoners in the prisons, I see the defective human
or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison? 15 — Clef Poem.
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the run- away runaway
Let the prison-keepers be put in prison! Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say!
Let books take the place of trees, animals, rivers, clouds!
I rubbed my eyes a little, to see if this sunbeam were no illusion; but the solid sense of the book is
I did not know until I last night saw the book advertised in a newspaper that I could trust the name
Their shadows are projected in employments, in books, in the cities, in trade; their feet are on the
The twelve thousand large and small shops for dispensing books and newspapers—the same number of public
I see plying shuttles, the active ephemeral myriads of books also, faithfully weaving the garments of
looking cautiously to see how the rest behave, dress, write, talk, love—pressing the noses of dead books
alive, is attributable the remarkable non-personality and indistinctness of modern productions in books
make his way into the confidence of his readers, and his poems in time will become a pregnant text-book
He makes no allusions to books or writers; their spirits do not seem to have touched him; he has not
We omit much even in this short extract, for the book abounds in passages that can not be quoted in drawing-rooms
reserve and with perfect indifference as to their effect on the reader's mind; and not only is the book
this gross yet elevated, this superficial yet profound, this preposterous yet somehow fascinating book
As seems very proper in a book of transcendental poetry, the author withholds his name from the title-page
inexpressible purposes of nature, and for this haughtiest of writers that has ever yet written and printed a book
The man is the true impersonation of his book—rough, uncouth, vulgar.
cannot tell, unless it means a man who thinks that the fine essence of poetry consists in writing a book
We should have passed over this book, "LEAVES OF GRASS," with indignant contempt, had not some few Transatlantic
suppose that Walt Whitman has been learning to write, and that the compositor has got hold of his copy-book
We will neither weary nor insult our readers with more extracts from this notable book.
Emerson writes that he finds in his book "incomparable things, said incomparably well."
The book he pronounces "the most extraordinary piece of wit and wisdom that America has yet contributed
In that state he would write a book exactly like Walt Whitman's "LEAVES OF GRASS."
Three-fourths of Walt Whitman's book is poetry as catalogues of auctioneers are poems.
A Catalogue of the Household Furniture with the select collection of scarce, curious, and valuable books
creations of the modern American mind; but he is no fool, though abundantly eccentric, nor is his book
again there is no patronymic, and we can only infer that this roystering blade is the author of the book
Such, as we conceive, is the key to this strange, grotesque, and bewildering book; yet we are far from
This book should find no place where humanity urges any claim to respect, and the author should be kicked
things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books
Europe, Asia—a wandering savage, A farmer, mechanic, artist, gentleman, sailor, lover, quaker, A prisoner
great authors and schools, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books
Did you read in the sea-books of the old-fashioned frigate-fight?
I become any presence or truth of humanity here, And see myself in prison shaped like another man, And
I see the menials of the earth, laboring, I see the prisoners in the prisons, I see the defective human
not what is printed, preached, discussed—it eludes discussion and print, It is not to be put in a book
, it is not in this book, It is for you, whoever you are—it is no farther from you than your hearing
curious way we write what we think, yet very faintly, The directory, the detector, the ledger, the books
in ranks on the book-shelves, the clock at- tached attached to the wall, The ring on your finger, the
descends and goes instead of the carver that carved the supporting-desk, When I can touch the body of books
What are your theology, tuition, society, traditions, statute-books now?
The shape of the prisoner's place in the court- room court-room , and of him or her seated in the place
Great are marriage, commerce, newspapers, books, free-trade, rail-roads, steamers, interna- tional international
drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it, Books
Which is the theory or book that is not diseased? Piety and conformity to them that like!
Who are you, that wanted only a book to join you in your nonsense?
Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopened!
Books, friendships, philosophers, priests, action, pleasure, pride, beat up and down, seeking to give
or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison?
a loud alarm and frequent advance and retreat, The infidel triumphs—or supposes he triumphs, The prison
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the run- away runaway
slave is one with the master's call, and the master salutes the slave, The felon steps forth from the prison
Let the prison-keepers be put in prison! Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say!
Let books take the place of trees, animals, rivers, clouds!
Blue Book Copy of Leaves of Grass Blue Book Copy of Leaves of Grass a machine readable transcription
Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass Boston Thayer and Eldridge 1860–61 The New York Public Library, Rare Book
Great are commerce, newspapers, books, free-trade, railroads, steamers, international mails, tele- graphs
Books, friendships, philosophers, priests, action, pleas- ure pleasure , pride, beat up and down, seeking
or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison?
You felons on trials in courts, You convicts in prison cells—you sentenced assas- sins assassins , chained
and handcuffed with iron, Who am I, that I am not on trial, or in prison?
see these sights on the earth, I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny—I see martyrs and prisoners
SO far, and so far, and on toward the end, Singing what is sung in this book, from the irresisti- ble
irresistible impulses of me; But whether I continue beyond this book, to ma- turity maturity , Whether
LIFT me close to your face till I whisper, What you are holding is in reality no book, nor part of a
book, It is a man, flushed and full-blooded—it is I—So long!
neck, the hands folded across the breast. 22 I see the menials of the earth, laboring, I see the prisoners
in the prisons, I see the defective human bodies of the earth, I see the blind, the deaf and dumb, idiots
To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face! To mount the scaffold!
drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it, Books
Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopened!
For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book, Nor is it by reading it you
alarm and fre- quent frequent advance and retreat, The infidel triumphs—or supposes he triumphs, The prison
drops, Candid, from me falling—drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prisoned
how unfaltering, how affectionate and faithful they were, Then I am pensive—I hastily put down the book
library, Nor reminiscence of any deed of courage, for America, Nor literary success, nor intellect—nor book
for the book-shelf; Only these carols, vibrating through the air, I leave, For comrades and lovers.
literature, products, games, juris- prudence jurisprudence , wars, manners, amativeness, crimes, prisons
In it physique, intellect, faith—in it just as much as to manage an army or a city, or to write a book