University of Virginia Library

PREFACE.

I do not deem it necessary to write a preface to these few poems but, somehow, I have a tender feeling for this little book that is about to be sent out into the world, to bear such an humble burden as my feeble thought. I do not know, but I believe that if this book could speak it would sternly refuse to go on such an humble mission; but, since I have imposed upon it this duty, knowing the many censuring critics it may have to encounter, I believe it my duty to say a word, for the very book's sake, that may cause the censuring tongue of man to wag less swiftly.

First, I must say that these poems were written under very unfavorable circumstances. Dignity may not allow me to explain, but I will say that they were composed during my leisure time, which has been limited. I say leisure time—no, I have none; I should have said sacrificed time, time when the body was almost exhausted from manual labor, when recreation was greatly needed; and you who know what a struggle the mind has battling with an exhausted body in trying to perform such a task as this can easily allow for this feeble result. The mind can not work when the body is exhausted, and I assure you that I would not have written one line had Nature not forced me to do so. Often at my work-bench, when I thought

greater speed was needed to finish my daily task, these poems—or whatever you may call them—would flash into my mind and I would be restless to sketch them upon paper that I might retain them until my day's work was done. Sometimes I could find it convenient to do so, sometimes I could not, and when I would fail to sketch them, at night the muse would not return. Thus you can understand why I have not written more.

I must also state that I am conscious of the fact that this work does not come up to the sandard work of the mighty masters of poetry, but you need not censure me—it is not my fault. The muse has not yet taught me to sing as they. Had she given me the same power, do you not think I would have written?

Moreover, I am just beginning, and perhaps she does not care to intrust me with the whole art at once; she may have thought it best to give me one talent first that she might see how I would use it, and I assure you that I think I should have done better. Often I have thought of laying these few poems aside and not giving any to the public until I became able to write as good poems as other poets. I publish them because I do not wish the muse to find me with my one talent buried when she comes to make up her jewels and reward her servants. She might serve me as his lord did the other one-talented servant we read of in the Bible.