ERBapa Reprint
ERBapa No. 74 ~ Summer 2002
ERBapa v02 n07 by Bill Hillman
BILL HILLMAN
Aka JoN: Jeddak of the North
41 Kensington Crescent,
Brandon, MB R7A 6M4 Canada
204.728.4673 ~ hillmans@westman.wave.ca
BILL and SUE-ON HILLMAN ECLECTIC STUDIO
http://www.hillmanweb.comERB's Favourite Poet
Henry Herbert Knibbs
Part II
Continued from Part I in ERBzine 0950
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Copyright 2005: Knibbs Family Archive ~ Not for download or distributionThe western poetry of Henry Herbert Knibbs serves as a wonderful inspiration for all young aspiring poets. It also gives each of us in this genus, the challenge of a high standard to reach for.
---Dolan Ellis, Arizona Folklore Preserve, Hereford, Arizona
Knibbs' sensitivity is impressive and inspirational. His imagery makes me feel like I am standing "Where the Ponies Come to Drink." I feel the wrath of "Maw", I ride with "The Bigelow Boys" and I can smell the rain in "Rainmaker."— Red Steagall, Western Entertainer, Fort Worth, Texas
Oh, my heart it is just achin'
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I'm tired of seein' scenery
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Now Mr. Boomer Johnson was a gettin' old in spots, But you don't expect a bad man to go wrastlin' pans and pots; But he'd done his share of killin' and his draw was gettin' slow, So he quits a-punchin' cattle and he takes to punchin' dough. Our foreman up and hires him, figurin' age had rode
him tame,
He never used no matches - left 'em layin' on the shelf,
Now killin' folks and cookin' ain't so awful far apart,
He built his doughnuts solid, and it sure would curl
your hair
We-all was gettin' jumpy, but he couldn't understand
They didn't taste no better and they didn't taste no
worse,
When at breakfast one bright mornin', I was feelin'
kind of low,
Scorn his grub? He strings some doughnuts on the muzzle
of his gun,
Did they fire him? Listen, pardner, there was nothin'
left to fire,
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Make me no grave within that quiet place Where friends shall sadly view the grassy mound, Politely solemn for a little space, As though the spirit slept beneath the ground. For me no sorrow, nor the hopeless tear;
But lay me where the pines, austere and tall,
Where dawn, rejoicing, rises from the deep,
Far trails await me; valleys vast and still,
And I shall find brave comrades on the way:
Loud swells the wind along the mountain-side,
Henry Herbert Knibbs
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Up in Northern Arizona
Out they fling across the mesa,
Down they swing as if pretending,
One by one each head is lowered,
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turned him loose for good last season; Eighteen years; hard work, his record, and he's earned his little rest; And he's taking it by playing, acting proud, and with good reason; Though he's starched a little forward, he can fan it with the best. Once I called him--almost caught him,
Some folks wouldn't understand it,--
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Make me no grave within that quiet place
For me no sorrow, nor the hopeless tear;
But lay me where the pines, austere and tall,
Where dawn, rejoicing, rises from the deep,
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Vistas undreamed of, canyon-guarded streams, Lowland and range, fair meadow, flower-girt hill, Forests enchanted, filled with magic dreams. And I shall find brave comrades on the way:
Loud swells the wind along the mountain-side,
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Did you ever
wait for daylight
Once I waited,
almost wishing
Saw the ripples
of the shallows
But an oath
had come between us--
Just a hair
and he'd have got me,
He had passed
his word to cross it--
Saw me standing
in the open;
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Twenty abreast down the golden street,
ten thousand riders marched;
Gaunt and grizzled a Texas man from
out of the concourse strode,
A hush ran over the waiting throng
as the Cherubim replied:
Then warily spake the Texas man: "A
petition, and no complaint.
"'Give us a range and our horses and
ropes; open the Pearly Gate,
"'Maverick comets that's running wild,
we'll rope 'em and brand 'em fair,
"'We've studied Ancient Landmarks,
Sir; Taurus, the Bear, and Mars,
"'Here, we have nothing to do but yarn
of the days that have long gone by.
Then the Lord He spake to the Cherubim,
and this was His kindly word:
Have you heard in the starlit dusk
of eve when the lone coyotes roam,
Never twice in the world you find,
Soon, too soon shall the sunlight pass,
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Only a few of us understood his ways
and his outfit queer,
His gaze was fixed on the spaces; he
never had much to say
He scorned new methods and manners,
and stock that was under fence,
That's what he'd say when we hailed
him as we met him along the trail,
He made you think of an eagle caged
up for the folks to see,
He'd work till he got a grub-stake;
then drift, and he'd make his fire,
They were running a line for fences,
surveying to subdivide,
The coroner picked his jury—and a livery-horse
apiece,
Tom was n't strong for parsons—so we
did n't observe the rules,
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The scattering sage stands thin and
tense
A few green acres fenced and neat,
And many a one of the wights that roam,
Singers, they, of the open land;
When the hill-stream roars from the
far-off height,
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Guide to the
Henry Herbert Knibbs Papers
1874-1945
Department of Special Collections and University
Archives Stanford University Libraries
Scope and Content of Archive Containers: Highlights
Corresponence, documents, photographs and sketches, newspaper clippings, tearsheets, and Knibbs' death mask. The areas covered include works by Henry Knibbs, including novels, short stories and poetry; biographical data on Knibbs; and works by other authors.Section I: Works By Henry H. Knibbs
Poetry, General File, Untitled, A - E.
Including manuscript, typescript, carbon typescript, and tearsheet, (some
with autograph correction) of the following: [Box 5, Folder 54]
"The Edge of Town" Poetry, General File, F - Z: [Box 5, Folder 55]
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Notebooks Of Henry H. Knibbs. Including one on architecture; and one with start of autograph manuscript autobiography, 6 pp. Miscellaneous notes and outlines(c. 60 items). |
General File, N - Z, including letters to, from, or about, the following:
Section III: Documents.General File, including: [Box 7, Folder 89]
Section IV: Miscellany.
Section V: Works By Others Than Henry Knibbs
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For example: The Popular Magazine [v39 #4, February 7, 1916 - v41 #6, September 7, 1916] The Shallows of the Ford · Henry Herbert Knibbs Magic—of the Blue Mesa · Henry Herbert Knibbs The Bug Man’s Anathema [Bug Man] · Henry Herbert Knibbs Chance · Henry Herbert Knibbs · pm Homespun · Henry Herbert Knibbs · ss The Reata · Henry Herbert Knibbs · pm Still-Going-North Stanley · Henry Herbert Knibbs · na Quien Sabe · Henry Herbert Knibbs · ss The Game · Henry Herbert Knibbs · ss Pinguay · Henry Herbert Knibbs · vi Twinkle on Thirty-Three · H. H. Knibbs · ss Pearl of the Atolls · Henry Herbert Knibbs · pm Bud Shoop’s Bondsman · Henry Herbert Knibbs · ss |
Knibbs' "The Forgotten Land" was an 8-page short
story published in The Popular Magazine - 1917.02.07
The story is about the last white man and woman after
the conquest of the US by Japanese invaders.
Some believe that ERB had assisted HHK in the story's
plot as a favour since he was such admirer of Knibbs' poetry.
See The Mucker.
Real Western: October 1935: Gray Outlaw by Henry Herbert Knibbs |
Adventure May 1938 Volume 99, Number 1. Stories by Henry Herbert Knibbs and more |
Sundown Slim by Henry Herbert Knibbs Sony e-edition published by B&R Samizdat Express. |
Frontispiece: Sundown Slim |
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Adventure: August, Aug. 1, 1930 "Stallions of the Storm" (poem) by Henry Herbert Knibbs |
See the
ERB Personal Library Project
Shelf
K2
Read H. H. Knibbs in ERBzine
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To Part I of this Two-Part Series
Volume
0951
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BILL HILLMAN
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