The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-09-08
A KENTUCKY POET.
Whats excellent AS God lives is permanent.
BY CHARLES J. o'MALLEY.


 Whatever the poets of south and west Kentucky may lack in literary finish, as has been insinuated recently by Louisville critic (who has inn bibed, evidently, the imperfect Eng fish as we'll as the egotism of Fadla- deen) it cannot be denied that the strongest songs have been sung by them. There is not poet i'll Ken lucky who has, so far, shown a like spiritual depth and insight to that found in the poems of Ingram Crock cit. There is not poet in south and west Kentucky who lacks virile force, a quality insisted upon by, presuma- bly,, the same critic. Indeed, this characteristic is in danger of becom- ing too marked. Southwest Kentucky is only too prone to write as she shoots Ito kill; yet if little blood drops here, or little gash appears there, it shows an unmistakable dl- rectness, and that life has been reached. Not few of Mir. Daniel E. O'Sulli- vans poems possess this quality ot vir- ility and strength. He is everywhere masculine. The strong, knotted mus cles of the athlete gleam through the drapery of words. This drapery is but the reitarJuS of the gladiator. Back of it lies the inevitable trident. Approach too near and you are torn through by the terrible lines. AS an instance the following, taken from The Current, shows decided qualities of strength and beauty:
 AN INVOCATION,
 Some day-perchance full soon-my work will And not one glory of the sky or field Will wake me from that long, sweet' reS'iui That tired hearts long for when the way is The toilsome journey will be Der at last, And all the frettngs and the wearine,s,s mes, The vain, vague yearnings that will never The dear com panions ship we seek and lose, Will sink in the calm restfulness or Death, Where lie ambition passion anu regret. If on that far and even fairest shore I did not find u ose loved best on earth If met not upon some winding way Some gentle face that in this mortal sphere know and loved, and looked for longingly, Then could not contented be, although The joys of heaven were forever mine. o God, Vhen that hour shrouds me ,cith its pau
 
 And let me wander blind, and mute and sad A dreary outcast on that alien shore.
 There is something startling in the sudden force, the dramatic intensity, of the clause in italics. It is blow between the eyes, stubborn, vigorous, effective and full of tragic earnestness. At that moment the net had dropped between the world and the man, and the soul had grasped it's trident.
 It is claimed that Tennyson won his first success by his pictures of women. Many of Mr. O'Suiiivan's poems are on the same subject and while 1t can not be claimed that his pictures have equal artistic finish, it is apparent that the pre- Raphaelitism, the studied ef- feet of light and shade laid with the care of Mosaic work, is notably absent to the gain of free and natural art. Every line of the little poem append ed is a picture in itself. He is drawer of pictures; but his images are true to life. Instinctively you feel that his men and women have blood in their veins.
 PAIR OF BLUE EYKs.
 A drifting cloud of raven hair
 Blown round her forehead pure and white, As might tho sombre clsak of Night
 Enfold a lily tall and fair.
 Half.lifted lids make prisoners
 And shut from out the worlds rude gaze,
 Those beautiful blue eyes of hers-
 So perfect that they need no praise.
 found within those wells of Truth,
 Which drank the suns rays fearlessly,
 world of love and life and youth
 Where nv aQaraad mn ahould ba know not why the skies are blue,
 Nor why they lead to Paradise:
 If you would find an answer true
 hook down into her sweet blue eyes.
 A graver face looks out at us from the word framing of "Margery." She is the artless maiden from the coun- try, half.child, half-woman, with strong brown hands, and demure, olive cheeks. It is Mdud Muller come up from the farmstead to the city, full of sweet, winning shyness, simple won- derment and childlike simplicity and trust. We see her in the city every day, and 1t Is well that she tsgoes out from the crowded town" for 1t is not good that her child eyes should look upon athe far, hurt ways where pitt eous passions war"
 IMAGERY.
 MArgery came to the crowded town
 Into tho buey, hurrytnE street.