The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1891-04-14


Lucifer trod;
Or, there where the Arkansaw rolls
to the deep
Is your spirit as well as your senses asleep?
Vivian, Vivisn, where are you now?
On, where are you DOW?
In dreams still feel your hot kiss on my
brow,
In dreams still feel the old clasp of your
palm,
And my spirit sweeps into an infinite calm;
And [ know that my love is immorta and
l shall rest on your heart through the pas.
siOnate years,
Beyond the pale phantom of time and its
tears.
This is a beautiful poem, tender,
sweet, pathetic, full of passion and
subdued sadness.
"Have you composed a great deal
of poetry?"
"No, not a great deal; about
twenty poems in al, and / do not ex.
pect to WOO the tickle muse much
more. In the future my writing shall
be entirely in the line of general
journalism. | do not expect but two
or three of my poems to survive. Not
much good poetry being written now.
a-days. We have enough, anyhow
the world don't need any more"
"Would yeu care TO state what
poet, or poets, you like best?"
"No objection certainly not.
have read Shakespeare, Milton and
Longfel.ow the most, and they might
be called my fsvorite poets. But |
read all the poets from Homer down
to Will Hubbard Herman, who wrote
The Song of Hate 'Vashti,
Kenneth My King'-good poetry,
90, by the way"
500 you know Will III. Herman, oil
Okslona States fame?" the BAzoo
rep rter inquired"
"Know him ?" Mr.. Blair responded
with enthusiasm.
81 know him like book and love
him like a brother. He is a poor
whisky wreck, but the most supurb
ruin | ever knew. / consider him
the greatest of living poe's."
"Will you repeat a few selections
from his poems ?"
"With pleasure. As / love the
man / admire his poetry, and some
day, the same as Edgar A. Poe, when
he is dead and gone world that was
ungeperous in its patronage with him
during life will do him justice and
recognize the genius and wonderful
ability of Herman. From his penn,
The Song Hate l will quote the
following lines:
"Hate this world, my masters, so cruel
calm and cold
Hate the awful secret that meier to man
was told"
"Hate l this world, my masters, so given
to show and sham.
Its lilies, lies and illusions, deluding us bui
to damn."
Hate the name OF frienship, of all thing
tickle and frail,
For true in the time OF trial how oft hav,
/ seen it fail"
Rather pes>imistic, I'll admit.
don't speak of the sentiment-only the
poetic mechanism of It's language.
"Vashti" is his masterpiece. You
will see from the folio wing lines tht
passion and beauty of the poem:
''Oh, hear the waters sing,
And / see the sweet wild roses blushini
with the blood of spring;
And my world leaps up to Heaven as
clasp thee to my breast
In a swoon of perfect rapture, with sens'
of perfect rest
But turn with sudden start,
Aid my torn and bleeding heart
Cries unto Christ have pity
Let my soul and senses part"
'fBliss, bliss inefIable, divine with thee t
dwell
On the calm, bright heights of Heaven
Or, in the heart of He'll"
"Oh heart, oh heart of mine,
Is it symbol, is it sign
OF resurrection morning
That will ransom thee and thine"
swell, I'll repeat no more. l coul'
give you volume. But, let me b
understood from first to last, to advo
cate the claims and worth of VIII
Hubbard Herman. / consider hin
the Edgar A. Poe of the present day,
AMI, as he spoke, be arose from hi
seat and said goodbye to the BAzo
reporter, wishing the paper a loni
life and much prosperity.
CHARLES SHELLEY HUGHES.