The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1875-08-12
JOAQUIN MILLER AT WORK
HIs ~sHIp THE DESERT

his "SHIP IN THE DESERT"
rar poEr AT THE NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
OPINION OF MIILER-THE NEW POEM READ
IRIS OPENING sTANzAs.
A correspondent of the Graphic writes
IRON Long Branch: When one has tho OPP
portunity to sit beside great poet o. the
piazza of a watering plscs hotel. wkile he
reads the proofs of his new volume, one feels
a sympathy for the remainder Of Humanity
which is forced to content itself with such
Measures rs dancing, dining, wiOtng, bath
ing, flirting and so on. And II one IS
new spapcr correspondent, the INCLINATION
TO make the world SHAKER in the present
Gov. at second hand, is irresistible. So to-day
/ bid wit the commoner topicsof the water
ing place existence, ard give my letter 20
-ecnoing the strains OF soaquin's latest song.
The iconoclastic spirit OF TIE age, winch
loves to knock down idols and clip the
wings of soaring genius, would enjoy 1
know, screed from this pen which should
riddle Joaquin Miller with sarcastic fau5
but from the fSrst have placed myself on
the record As an earnest admlrer OF Ibis
mans poetry, and though "lnsepsrsele"
declares / newer would spoil Joke Tor the
sake of the truth, II find myself unable to
make fun at the expense of the poet OF the
SSierras. I know how much "spicier"
critic is when he is pitching ins" and
have comfogted myself once or twice IN my
public career by this knowledge, when
in some Wesaern town a scribe VINO has in
struction % make his critique of me
"spicy" took the skin al of my knuckles
(moraIlyl in the effort to obey orders. But
let those rgsp Joaquin Miller's sensitive
nature wife will. / cOniess-duH though 1t
be to prsise-rhstI belong to the new sect
of later Eillerites. Ibid you say" asked
one of MFsler's admirers of Tennyson, "that
JOAQUIN Miller was the greatest poet liv-
ing?" "No, "said the Laureate; but SAID
he wouEes 'be if he worked as hard as do"
And how hard
TENNYsoS WORKS
is clearly enough shown by his own svowal
that he once smoked twelve cigars while
he pondered over a single line. L know of
NV own knowledge that he Kept proofs by
him for eleven months, and when at last the
printers got them there was found To be
a BllZscian intricacy about them which was
the reverse of pleasing in the compositor's
eyes. And here is one great difference be-
tween those poets. Joaquin pours out bis
soul in song and then never wants to look
on the printed transcript again. 81 never
read my own books" be says. Te0nysOn is
never weary of applying the file. joaquin
sits and inserts new lines In his proof mich
is set up and read as carefully as gold
smith overlooks the mounting OF queens
diadem), while children are trolling hoops
and babies are bswling. and 'buss hounds
are shouting "AI aboard fog the New York
trainD and countless other noises are rsnd
ing the air. He scribbles his corrections
with his glove on and never smokes Whit
while thus engaged. Far from being the
sensation seeker he has been pictured Joa-
quin Miller is one OF the GuieteSt OF men,
and | am certain that not more than
dozen people in this great hosiery are
aware of the presence here OF this strong,
sweet singer. The poem OF which he Is now
reading the proofs is the longest he has writ
ten, and is entitled tine Ship In the
Desert" 1t has been printed in England,
and is sill ready for the market there; but,
like George Elliot, when 'Mliddlemarch"
was published, Joaquin ran away from
that not one should be sent him until after
the book had made its bow in this country.
But don't you think the most OF us could
FACE CRITICISM
with-a good deal of courage if we had writ
Tennis? give it to you before the publi' sees
it, so you are safe to steal 1t and SEND 1t To
your sweetheart as original:
"Her mouth was roses gathered from the South,
The warm, south side of Paradise.
And breathed upon and handed down,
As red as bdttie-StGT Of Mars,
By angels on stair of stars.
The italicised line is one which Joaquin
recently inserted: it did not appear in the
London edition. 81 wanted redness in the
mouth" said the poet last night, "but the
battle-star is too hard for a Sensuous picture.
That will goput." think myself 1t Is best
that Mars should take back seat. Observ-
ing a word spslled wrong in one OF the
poets pencilings, said: 'YOu do not take
the trouble TO spell correctly, L see
''Why, no" he answered with an amused
smile, Zone man can't do everything.
What's a printer tor? II q printer can't spell,
he'6 better Quit the business. Spelling isn't
my profession" IL is evident that an in
teresting story is to be evolved in - The ship
in the Desert" What that story is / have
not had enough of the proofs to know.
The first pages are by a skilful and
original device devoted to telling the
reader not what the tale is, but what it is
not. give
THE OPENING sTASZAs:
man in middle Aridzone
stood by the deserts edge alone,
And long lOOk'd and leand.
Above his twirl'd aud twisted beard,
Beneath his black and slouchy hat
Nay, nay, the tale Is not of that.
A skin-clad trspper, toe-a-tfp,
stood on mOuntain-tOo, and he
Look a long and still and eagerly
1T looked so Ike some lonely ship
That sails thus ghostly, lonesome sea-
This dried up desert sea, 7" said he,
Hrhese tawOy sands of AraZit" -.
Avaunti the tale is not OF 1t.
A chief from out the deserts ruin
Rode swiftly as twilight swallows swim,
Or eagle blown from eyre nest
His long bIask hair had bios somid white;
With feathers fiom the KOkO's crest;
His iron face was flush d and red,
His eyes fiash'i fire a. he fled;
For he had seen unSIghtly things
Had felt the Tapping OF their wings.
A wild and why man was he,
This tawny chief of Shoshouee:
And, oh, his supple steel was fieett
About his 0reass tapped panther skins
About his eager flying feet
Flappd beaded branded moccasins;
He rode as rides the hurricane;
he seemed to swallow up The plain;
He rode as never man did ride;
He rode, for ghosts rode at his side,
And on his right a griZzled. grim
No, MOI the tale is not Of him.
An Indian warrior lost his way
While providing on the deserts edge,
In fragrant sage and prickly hedge.
When suddenly he saw sight.
And turned his steed in eager flight,
he rode right through the edge of day.
He rode into the rolling night.
H. .arniA k,.a. o1.o.l.. ~.