The San Francisco call., 1897-07-18

velopment of his favorite theme. which
may be binted at in these stirring words:
Believe in man norturn away.
10! man advances year by year;
Time bears him upward, and his sphere
VI life must broaden day by day.
Believe in man with large belief;
The garnered grain each harves T.: ime
Hath promise roundness and full prime
For all the empty chafY and sheaf.
Recurring often to this subject, he says:
Come, let US kindle faith in man
What though yon eagle, where he swings
May molt a feather in Gods plan
OF broader stronger, better wings!
Why. let the molted feat hers lie
As thick as leaves upon the lawn
These be but proof we ceave The sky
And still round on and on and on.
Yet another battle he has drawn into
the light by the poem subjoined, which,
though it may not be reckoned among
his greatest productions. yet will be ac-
cepted as one of the noblest tributes to
womanhood ever penned. So negligent
has Mr.. Miller been of his literary output
that this has often been attributed to
other writers without clamorous outcry on
his part as is usual with other writers.
WOHdU owes u ucDt VI SldilluQC ~
the author of these lines:
The bravest battle that ever was fought;
Shall tell you where and when?
On the maps Of The world you will find it not;
1t was fought by the mothers of men.
This poem is doubtless familiar, as it has
been often published.
1 have had an opportunity to view the
proof sheets and the authors revise" of
the forthcoming book, and it may be
stated that there are few pages of his ear
lier poems that have not been anne nded in
substance as we'll as in diction. He has
sincerely striven, as he promised in his
preface. to give his poems mot only body,
but SOUL"
Mr.. Miller is pre.eminently the poet of
the argonauts-of the pioneers who
builded great States on the Pacific Coast
and his tributes to them must ever stand
as their proudest monuments. His most
eloquent words appear in by the Sun
down Seas" My own parents were
among those who 'fell in silence and
who silent lie and Sleep" and, in COM
mon with thousands who were similarly
bereaved, appreciate the tender pathos
of the poets tribute in 1.-THE Heroes of
My Vest:
My brave and unremember'd heroes, rest;
You fell In silence silent lie and sleep.
Sleep on unsung, for this. say, werA best;
The world to-day has hardly time weep;
The orld to-day will hardly care to keep
In heart her plain and unpret ending brave.
The desert winds, they whistle by and sweep
About you; brown'd and russell grasses wave
Along thousand leagues that lie one common
grave.
The proud and careless pass In pa ace-car
Along the line you bIazon'd white wi h bones;
Psss swift to people, and possess and mar
Your lands with monuments and letterd stones
Unto themselves. Thank God! this waste dis.
owns
Their touch. His everlasting hand has drawn
A shining line around you Wealth bemoans
The waste your splendid grave employs.
Sleep on,
No hand shall touch your dust this side Of God
and dawn.
The mem bers of the Society of Pacific
Coast Pioneers owe vote of thanks to the
master of "The Heights" for these lines:
1fy brave world-bui,ders Of the West!
Why, toho doth k1lotO ye? Who shall knot0
But l. that on thy peaks Of snOao
Brake bread the first Who toUes ye bestf
Who holds ye stu, Of more stern aOorth
Than all proud peoples Of the earth 2
Yea, T. the rhymer Of aUild rhymes,
indifferent Of blame praise,
stu sing Of ge, as one acho plays
The s,oeet air in all strange clfmes-
The same a0ttd, piercing highland air,
Because, because, his heart is there
The footnotes of the coming volume are
replete with personal illusions and the
inmost thoughts of the writer appear to
be revealed for the edifcation of the
reader. He does not deny that "The
Tale of the Tall Alcalde" is in a certain
degree auto biographical, and he says that
of all his books he most heartily cherishes
the Songs of the Soul" The division
called "Sappho and Phaon" may be ac-
cepted as a veritable epitome of the tender
passion, and lovers need never fail for ex-
pressions of their inten.est feelings so
long as they have access 10 Mr.. Miller's
writings There is scarcely a poem of any
length that is lacking in an exposition OF
his deep appreciation of this all-moving
theme. In his "Songs of the Amazons"
the dusky heroine declares that
There is nothing so much as q brave mans
kiss,
And she adds that there is in all the
world
Nothing so strong
AS the silk-soft touch of baby's brown hand.
So she decides quite humanity, and as