The star. (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1874-1875, 1875-07-05
A Preface to Joaquin Miller,s New Book,

Mr.. Joaquin Miller is to publish ney
Ipoem to be called ssThe Ship in the Des
ert." The New York Post is permitted b.
tne author to print the following preiacl
and dedication. 1t will be seen that il
the new work the poet leaves the Sierral
ior Inc orient. Very possibly. he may
| write as well of the East as he has writ
ten of the West, for Mr.. Miller's poetry
is of the itinerary sort. With much non
! sence and much confusion he certainly
has the old poetic exultation in the
presence OF new and grand scenes:
With deep reverence insoribe these
! lines, my dear parents, to you. see you
now, away beyond the seas, where the
sun goes down in the Pacific like some
great ship of fire, resting still on the
green hills, watching your herds, wait
ing
Where rolls the Oregon,
And hcar6 no sound save its own uashing.
Nearly quarter OF o century ago you
took me the long and lonesome halt
years journey across the mighty conti-
nent, wild and rent and broken up, and
sown with sand and ashes, and crossed
by tumbling wooded rivers, that ran as
II glad to get away, fresh and strange
and new, as if but half fashioned from
the hand OF God.
All the time as 1 tread this strange
land reliye those scenes, and you are
with me. How dark and deep, how. sui
len, strong, and lion-like the mighty Mis-
souri, rolled between his walls Of un-
tracked wood, and cleft the unknown
domain of the middle world before us.
Then the frail and butfeted rats on the
river, the women and children huddled
together, the shouts OF a thousand men,
as they swan with the believing cattle:
The cows in the stormy stream, eddying,
whirling, spinning about, calling to their
young, their bright horns shining in the
sun. The Wild men waiting on the
other side, painted savages leaning S.,
Lent on their bows, despising our weak
ness, opening way, letting US pass on
10 the unknown distances, where they
said the sun and moon lay down together
and brought forth the stars.
The long and winding lines of'wagons,
the graves by the way side, and women
weeping together as they passed on.
Then hills. then plains, parched lands
like Syria, dust and asnes and alkaIi,
coal streams with woods, camps by
nlgnt, great wood fires III circles, tents
III the Center like Lesar's battle camps,
PAINTED men tnat passed like shade US,
showers VI arrows, the wild beasts howl |
ing from the hill.
You, my dear parents, will pardon III
SllSut III eiu VI uCtiOu Ol WHICH 4 nave |
strung these scenes and descriptions OF |
This mighty land Of mystery and wild |
and savage grandeur, ior the world Will |
nave It's Way, and, ike spoiled Child, |
demands tale. Yea,
We who toll and earn our bread
SCill lave our masters. ~
A ragged and broken story it is, with |
ong deserts, win a!kali anu ashes, yet /
t may, Ike The land 1t deals oi, have
some green places and woDds and run
ling waters, Wnere you can rest.
inree times, now, nave 1 ranged the |
great West i'll fancy, as l did in iact for |
,Wenty years, ana gathered unknown
md unnamed blossoms from nlountain.
,op, from desert level, wnere man ne yer
'anged before, and asked the world to |
ecelve my weeds, my grasses, and blue.
'yed biossoms. Bue here 1t ends. Good |
II bad. have done enough oi this work
III the border. The Orient promises Il
more grateful harvest.
haYe been true TO my West. She has |
)een my only love. l nave remembered |
Isr great men. have done my work 10 |
NOV to the word her vastness, her |
Ichness, her resources, her valor and |
Ier dignity, her poetry and her grand |
sur. Yet while l was going on, work ing |
80 IN silence, what were the things she |
,aid OF me? But let that ass, my dear
parents. Others will con af err us.
Perhaps | have blaZ II out ,n1 Trail Tor |
great minds in this feid, as you did |
lcross tne deserts and plains for great |
nen IL quarter ol century ago.
JOAQUIN MILLER.
Lake Como, August, loi4.