The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1895-04-10
BURGLAR AND POET.
CHAPLAIN PLUMER DISCOVERS ONE
IN THE MAINE STATE PRISON.

Chaplain runner OF the AIaIL9 Stdte
prison has discovered in Fred Irving
enc of the inmates, poet of no mean
pretensions to fame, says the New York
Sun. Irving, who is serving a term OF
20 years for burglary, molds his poetic
| thought in the shape of sonnets, which
| he writes III the hours of recreation al
lowed him by the prison rules. His
style is fluent, racy and picturesque,
and many an author who has won the
public ear will envy him his facility of
rhyme and meter.
Mr. Irving, who has masqueraded
under other names while pursuing his
career of crime, placed in the hands of
Chaplain Plumer the other day manu-
script Of sonnets, the penmanship OF
which would have been creditable to 2
writing master. The chaplain discerned
| their merit at once, but he also saw that
be must play the censor if they were TO
see the light, for Mr. Irving had abused
the license permitted to poets in a man
ner offensive to chaste minds and shock
ing to ears polite. But after the work
of expurgation had been done many
passages were left to challenge the at
tention of critical minds
Mr.. Irving is nothing if not daring,
and he often repels by the brutality
with which he sings of his chosen pro
fession, for burglary is his business and
poetry merely pastime which he takes
up when he is guest of the state.
Occasionally the burglar poet wearies
of base themes, and then he attunes his
harmonies to subjects of enchanting
| lyric sweetness or even strikes a note
of religious fervor, and the strains that
| follow are as rolling, deep and impress
i've as the melodious thunders Of an Or
gan with all the stops pulled out. In
order to insure him a respectful hearing
| he should therefore be introduced by
such an emotional flight of rapture as
his easter, - which follows:
Sing, o my soul, the theme exultant sing,
| Swift, swift my feet, the healing message
| take
To stricken earth that Christ, her Lord, doth
| wake
And walks in majesty today a king.
Oh, haste thee, heart, thy richest offering
| BRING.
Thine alabaster box of ointment break
Upon his feet, and joyful noises make
With flute and cymbals and the harps loud
| string
| Lol how the hills that late were gray ard sad
| Come forth all garlanded with verdant bloom,
| While lilies pale and sweet besprlnk the
plain.
So let men s hearts rejoice and make them glad
| In that our Lord hath burst the awful tomb,
And Judah's lion doth triumphant reign.
By way of contrast between Mr.. r.
Wings best and worst moods, and the
gulf is immeasurable, an audaciOus
trif1e, in which he takes the reader into
his confidence, should come next. 1t is
called 1.-The Gourmet" and in this
sonnet he answers a question which the
admirers of his verse would be likely to
ask. He says:
| Why do | burgleP Well, I'll tell you why.
| One great big reason is hate to g
To cheap restaurant 1t hurts me so
That, if had to, then Il rather die.
[ simply cannot stand the buzzing fly
And the waiter without collar, that thinks
| to grow
beard in week. l shrink from the holy
show
Of the tablecloth and the beans and the bakers
pie.
But at 9 a. m. to step into Youngs hotel,
| Where cool, well bred, cathedral quiet reigns
For absinthe, coffee and rolls and cantaloupe
Makes life worth living. Of course it costs
| But look at that ceiling, those delicate window
| panGS
And this napkin, clean and white as lady's
throat!
The depraved side of this bad poet
i. g., bad in a moral sense must be
shown, however, in its most somber col
ors Duty to high art requires it.
! Therefore the reader must submit to be
shocked by Mr.. Irving's 'Bafied, "
which was unquestionably inspired by
| Lucifer himself:
Once on a wild and lusterless midnight,
In a neglected graveyard by the cost,
| | dared the Father, Son and Holy Ghost
| To come right down and settle it in fight!
cracked my fists and shrieked with all my
might
And raved and cursed until was almost
| Exhausted unto death, and gainst post
leaned hard put and filed with bitter spite
Twor.d have gone hard with man or maid or
That had come Ger that road about that time
! For oncar-tA1UGA hat s anOther-see Rudyard
Kin
YET saw hrt enc lone star that quiet smiled
And beard bat brraEer7 IN whose loud sublime
| i caught the choke oil many strangled ship
Lest this awful fragment deprive Mr.
Irving altogether Of the sympathy Of the
generous; minded his Presence" is
inuuduced
| God sent q room 10 my heart last night,
me Visitation Of tAc Holy t.ost
Burst thToUsA TIE COL rlt.O!s Ct thought, al