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-# |
I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections, And I, when I meet you, mean to discover
HERE my last words, and the most baffling, Here the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest- lasting
, Here I shade down and hide my thoughts—I do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my
you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my
you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
, That I was, I knew was of my body—and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body.
Manhatta , My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, The sea-gulls oscillating
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!
O dear to me my birth-things—All moving things, and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers
; Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands, or through
the Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa, and the Sabine; O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my
the graceful palmetto; I pass rude sea-headlands and enter Pamlico Sound through an inlet, and dart my
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your
O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabbed
paint myriads of heads, but paint no head with- out without its nimbus of gold-colored light, From my
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
subject that offers itself—making a compact, the-whole-surrounding, National Poem , after its sort, after my
especially with the literary classes, to make it worth your while to give them a sight of me with all my
I reserve the use of the piece in any collection of my poems I may publish in future.
Should my name be printed in the programme of contributors at any time it must not be lower down than
last yawp, which (the review) you were frank enough to print in your last issue, emboldens me to speak my
Last Winter I got on skates, my first appearance before an icy audience for fifteen years.
U. is the poet of my concern, her suggestion to that effect was a strong point in favor of Mr.
s fondness for poetry doesn't at all interfere with the clearness of my café noir, the lightness of my
with my lordly prerogative.
I reserve the right of using it in any future edition of my poems.
House inform'd informed me that you accepted, and would publish, my "Bardic Symbols."
About the two lines: (See from my dead lips the ooze exuding at last!
This poem later appeared as "Calamus No. 40," Leaves of Grass (1860); as "That Shadow My Likeness," Leaves
My Dear Walt Through the stupidity of Lewis I did not receive the dispatch until late in the afternoon
I went directly to my frame makers, the frame will be done to-morrow, (it is a beauty) and if you wish
It is my wish it should be seen in Boston. Let me know how you propose to introduce it.
New York March 21st Your letter in answer to my note came to hand this a.m.
Chelsea Ferry, & enquire for, Charley Hollis, or Ed Morgan mention my name, and introduce yourself as
my friend.— I am obliged to you for your kind offer of sending me a few of the sheets in advance of
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Terrified with myself that I have dared to open my
echoes re- coil recoil upon me, I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
Saturday Press, New York, Mch March 27 18 60 My dear Walt: I am so busy that I hardly have time to breathe
This must explain my not answering yr your letter promptly.
I could if necessary give my note at three mos for the amount and it is a good note since we have never
to whom I am an entire stranger will do anything of the kind: but in suggesting it, I have done only my
—But of course my letter to you was not mailed, and now I have once more to reply to yours.— I am glad
kind and attentive to you, I assure you I did not think much of his bad delivery , but on the contrary my
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!
As I know you would like to hear from me, my dear friend, I will not yet go to bed—but sit down to write
to you, that I have been here in Boston, to-day is a fortnight, and that my book is well under way.
I was going to put into the book—just took me to the stereotype foundry, and given orders to follow my
It will be out in a month—a great relief to me to have the thing off my mind.
I send my love to Helen and Emmy. Walt. Walt Whitman to Abby H. Price, 29 March 1860
Dear Brother, I have just finished a letter to mother, and while my hand is in, I will write you a line
I enclose in my letter to Mother, a note from Hyde —nothing at all in it, except that Han is well, and
, it seems to me, like relieving me of a great weight—or removing a great obstacle that has been in my
go-ahead fellows, and don't seem to have the least doubt they are bound to make a good spec. out of my
I am very well, and hold my own about as usual.
Walter it is so strange you hav e not got my letter I sent one last friday Friday morning and should
and have had all you have sent and come very acceptable I had got down to 10 cents you must have got my
told him I had hired so much of the house out he would have to hire his board write Walt if you got my
institutionalizing Jesse because, according to her December 25, 1863 letter, she "could not find it in my
Friend Walter— I design bearly to say How do you do, while you are in Boston, & to express my own pleasure
I know what is your mental fare in Boston from my own past personal experience and without wishing to
intrude myself above my true level I could wish I were, at least, a stander-by.
How shall I rise to life (action), is, now, my all pressing & all urgent question.
Accept my affectionate regards. O. K. Sammis To Walt Whitman. O. K.
I am now back again in my old position at 168 Broadway, behind the desk. —So please address me here.
My excuse for writing to you is, that it is a matter of the utmost importance to a client of mine.
New York April 30th 18 60 Walt, I was very glad indeed to hear from you in answer to my last, and you
to find your business was progressing so favorably, — In accordance with not only your wishes, but my
them to give me the copy to make some little corrections—which I did effectually by going straight to my
And how goes it with you, my dear? I watched the N.
allow themselves to be squeezed into the stereotype mould, and wear straight collars and hats, and say "my
could go dead head if I was to apply—Jeff, I feel as if things had taken a turn with me, at last—Give my
love to Mat, and all my dear brothers, especially Georgie.
My dear Walt, The books are duly delivered.
Meanwhile I am up to my eyes—and over my eyes even to blindness—in the slough of a fearful road to that
plainer English I am fighting like a thousand Humans to establish the Saturday Press, and have for my
My brother George will deliver this. He is of the right stamp. In haste Henry Clapp.
Monday May 14, '60 My dear Walt : I spent much time yesterday reading your poems, and am more charmed
I want to do great things for you with the book, and as soon as I get over my immediate troubles will
I know perfectly well my own egotism. . . .
I will put in my poems, that with you is heroism, upon land and sea. . . .
On my way a moment I pause, Here for you! And here for America!
of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds, brighter and clear- er clearer for my sake!
by the indolent waves, I am exposed, cut by bitter and poisoned hail Steeped amid honeyed morphine , my
darkness Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking—preparations to pass to the one we had conquered— The captain
their dead songs about dead Europe, and its stupid monks and priests, its chivalry, and its thing a-my-bobs
The package came safe to hand on Friday, containing my 20 purchased L. of G. and 20 to give away at discretion
I rubbed my eyes a little to see if this sunbeam were no illusion; but the solid sense of the book is
I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you
my respects.
I could not shut my eyes to their wild, rough beauty nor close my soul to the truths they expressed.
I write simply to express my unqualified disgust with the portions I have read.
They look at me, and my eyes start out of my head; they speak to me, and I yell with de- light delight
; they touch me, and the flesh crawls off my bones.
heaven, it bears me beyond the stars, I tread upon the air, I sail upon the ether, I spread myself my
O my soul! O your soul, which is no better than my soul, and no worse, but just the same!
O my eye! 1247. These things are not in Webster's Dictionary— Unabridged, Pictorial.
My wife was indignant , and I should not wonder if she wrote a reply to it. W. W.
death with the dying, and birth with the new-washed new- washed babe, and am not contained between my
hat and my boots.
I know perfectly well my own egotism.
strong in the knees, and of an inquiring and communicative disposi- tion disposition Also instructive in my
because, being a woman, and having read the uncharitable and bitter attacks upon the book, I wish to give my
There are few poems which I can read with so intense a thrill of exultation at the greatness of my destiny
But I take back my promise. For if you are not sane what will writing avail?
It is a waste of breath for my friend to tell me I am healthy when my pulse records the circumstance
more foolish than the rest of the volume:— "I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable, I sound my
The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness, after the rest, and true as any, on the
I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run-away sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it
To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose-coloured flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous
Have you learned the physiology, phrenology, politics, geography, pride, freedom, friendship, of my land
Earth of the limpid grey of clouds, brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbowed Earth!
I do not know what I carry in my arms pressed close to my side and bosom!
I turn my steps to "Zion's Mill" a cemetery.
My womb is clean and pure. It is ready for thy child my love.
how lovingly will I cherish and guard it, our child my love. Thine the pleasure my love.
My motives are pure and holy. Our boy my love! Do you not already love him?
I loafe and invite my Soul, I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.
The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzzed whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine
, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs
The sound of the belched words of my voice, words loosed to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses
Our poet goes on to say (105): I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or
since, after the closest inquiry, "I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones."
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some the spread of my own body."
As for Mine, Mine has the idea of my own, and what's Mine is my own, and my own is all Mine and believes
in your and my name, the Present time. 6.
I lie in the night air in my red shirt—the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie, exhausted
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 one identity, any more than
my lands are inevitably united, and made one identity, Nativities, climates, the grass of the great
O truth of things, I am determined to press my way toward you; Sound your voice!
I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my
—I reached out my hand to feel the life-blood thrill beneath my fingers—I was faint with transport.
arms above my head to catch the stray sunbeams;—hugged it to my bosom transported with extatic emotion
;—yet never came before my vision sensual forms or thought found place in my imagination;—Was I passionless
—the warm, sympathetic tears that crept from beneath my eyelids and rolled lovingly down my bosom, soothing
my beating heart?
My dear little wife wants to write you a letter, and will when the domestic gods are propitious, so that
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some of the spread of my own body."—p. 55.
Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen, For room to me stars kept aside in
All forces have been steadily employed to complete and delight me: Now I stand on this spot with my Soul