The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1875-06-25
MISCELLANY.
A Preface to Joaquin Miller's New
Poem.

Mr.. Joaquin Miller is to publish a
new poem to be called The Ship in the
Desert" We are permitted by the au-
thor to print the following preface and
dedication. 1t will be seen in the new
work that the poet leaves the Sierras for
the Orient Very possibly he may write
as we'll of the East as he has written of
the West, for Mr.. Miller's poetry is Of
the itinerary sort. With much nonsense
and much confusion he certainly has the
old poetic exdltation in the presence of
new and grand scenes:
"Wlth deep reverence inscrioe these
lines, my dear parents, to you. see
you now, away beyond the seas, beyond
the land where the sun goes down in the
Pacific like some great ship of fire, rest
ing still on the green hills, watching
your herds, waiting
"'where rolls the Oregon,
And hears no sound save its own dashing.
NEARLY quarter of a century ago you
took me the long and lonesome half
years journey across the mighty conti-
nent. wild and rent and broken up, and
sown with sands and ashes, and crossed
by tumbling, wooded rivers, that ran as
if glad TO get away, fresh and strange
and new, az if but half fashioned from
the hand of God.
"AIl the time as tread this strange
land I relive 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 do
main of the middle world before us.
"Then the frail and buffeted RATS on
the river, the women and children hud-
died together, the shouts of a thousand
men as they SWAN with the believing
cattle; the cows in the stormy stream,
eddying, whirling, spinning about, call
ing to their young, their bright horns
shining in the sun. The wild men
waiting on the other side, painted saw
ages leaning silent on their bows, des-
pising our weakness, opening way, let
ting us pass on to the unknown distan-
ces, 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 wayside,
and women weeping together as they
passed on. Then hills, then plains,
parched lands like Syria, dust and ashes
and alkali, cool streams with woods,
camps by night, great wood fires in Cir
cles, tents in the center, like Caesars bat
tle-camps, painted men that passed like
shadows, showers of arrows, the wild
beasts bowling from the hill.
"You, my dear parents, will pardon
the slight thread of fiction on which I
have strung these scenes and descrip-
tions Of this mighty land of myetery,
and wild and savage granduer, for the
world will have its way, and, like spoil
ed child, demands tale. Yea,
"eWe who toll and earn our bread
Still have cur masters
A ragged and broken story it is, with
long deserts, with slkali and ashes, yet it
may, like the land it deals of, have some
green places, and woods, and running
waters, where you can rest.
"Three times now have ranged the
great West in fancy, as ! did in fact for
twenty years, and gathered unknown and
unnamed blossoms from mountain top,
from desert level, where man never ran
ged before, and asked the world to re-
ceive my weeds, my grasses, and blue
eyed blossoms. But here it ends. Good
or bad. have done enough of this work
on the border. The Orient promises a
more-g grateful harvest.
~ have been true to my West. She
has been my only love. ! have remem-
bered her great men. I have done my
work to show to the world her vastness,
her riches, her resources, her valor and
her dignity, her poetry and her grand
eur Yet while I was going on, working
ing SO in silence, what were the things
she said of me? But let that pass, my
dear parents. Others will come after Us.
Perhaps have blazed out the trail for
great minds in this field, as You did
across the deserts and plains for great
men quarter of century ago.
JOAQUIN MILLER"
LAKE Como, August, 1874"