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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 |
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| Year, Month, & Day | Single day |
| Year & Month | Whole month |
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WHEN I READ THE BOOK.
Let the prison-keepers be put in prison! Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say!
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison—the run-away son
book-words! what are you?
17 All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
This is no book; Who touches this, touches a man; (Is it night? Are we here alone?)
or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my voice will suddenly cease. 2 O book
This is no book; Who touches this, touches a man; (Is it night? Are we here alone?)
WHEN I READ THE BOOK.
I see the menials of the earth, laboring; I see the prisoners in the prisons; I see the defective human
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison—the run-away son
17 All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
let the prison- keepers prison-keepers be put in prison!
WHEN I READ THE BOOK.
I see all the menials of the earth, laboring, I see all the prisoners in the prisons, I see the defective
All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, All
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the runaway son
be put in prison—let those that were prisoners take the keys; Let them that distrust birth and death
O book, O chants! must all then amount to but this? Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us?
Camerado, this is no book, Who touches this touches a man, (Is it night?
This is no book, Who touches this, touches a man, (Is it night? Are we here alone?)
This is no book, Who touches this, touches a man, (Is it night? Are we here alone?)
Camerado, this is no book, Who touches this touches a man, (Is it night?
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!
or man that has been in prison, or is likely to be in prison? 4.
book, It is a man, flushed and full-blooded—it is I—So long!
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison—the run- away runaway
O book, O chants! must all then amount to but this? Must we barely arrive at this beginning of us?
Camerado, this is no book, Who touches this touches a man, (Is it night?
WHEN I READ THE BOOK.
All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, All
book-words! what are you?
The blind sleep, and the deaf and dumb sleep, The prisoner sleeps well in the prison, the runaway son
be put in prison—let those that were prisoners take the keys; Let them that distrust birth and death
Camerado, this is no book, Who touches this touches a man, (Is it night?
the masses whom Whitman celebrates and extols, have barely an acquaintance or none at all with his books
But his public has been, unfortunately, a narrow circle, and his books have not, therefore, been tested
This book is the life work, the first and final word, of Walt Whitman.
On the whole, we have here a poet who has frankly tried less to write a book than to find voice for a
The book—judged by the standard of all great books—falls far below greatness.
we believe authentically, that Whitman has never yet found (and has not to-day) a publisher for his books
Every book has been handled by him, contains his signature, and the photograph and pictures put in by
Whitman, (P.O. address permanently here in Camden, New Jersey,) sells these books exclusively himself
W is in himself—and in his book, which is himself—the soul of the new and generous continent.
arise, vigorous, wholesome, pure, breezy as the praries and lofty as the Sierras, we welcome W and his book
Walt Whitman's New Book. From Our Special Correspondent. B OSTON , Tuesday, November 8. . . .
This new volume of Whitman's contains philosophy, antiquities and history all in one, and is the book
John Keats, Hyperion , Book II. Walt Whitman's New Book
.; John Keats, Hyperion, Book II.
leavesleaf 1 21.5 x 13 cm, leaf 2 18.5 x 12.5 cm; Whitman inscribed and circled the note "2d/ piece/ in Book