n of Approbation shine
In warmth upon the humble rhymester's line,
And, like the lark that flutters tow'rds the light,
He spreads his pinions for a loftier flight.
The chilling frowns of critics may retard,
But cannot kill, the ardour of the Bard,
For, gaining wisdom by experience taught,
As grass grows strong from wounds by mowers wrought,
Success will come the Poet's fears to assuage,
Crowning his hopes with Poesy's perfect page.

PREFACE.

The verses which make up this volume have been written at intervals,
and under the most varied and chequered circumstances, extending over a
period of five-and-twenty years. If, therefore, they bear upon their
surface variety of sentiment and incongruity of feeling, that fact will
explain it. I am fully aware that some of the pieces are unequal in
merit from a purely artistic point of view, but I have felt that my
audience will be varied in its composition, and hence the introduction
of variety. The tone, however, of the whole work, I believe to be
healthy; and where honest maxims, combined with homely metaphor, are
found to take the place of high constructive art, they will, I know, be
excused by votaries of the latter, for the sake of those whose hearts
and instincts are much more sensitive to homely appeals than to the
charms of mere artistic effect. The pieces have all been written,
together with many other effusions, at such leisure moments as have
been accorded to one who, during the whole time of their composition,
has had to apply himself, almost without cessation, to the performance
of newspaper press duties; and those who know anything about such
things need not be told that a taste for versification is, to a
press-man, as a rule, what poverty is to most people--a very
inconvenient and by no means a profitable companion. In my own case,
however, the inconvenience has been a pleasure, and I have no reason to
find fault as to profit. From the fitful excitement of journalistic
duties I have turned to "making poetry," as Spenser defines the art, as
a jaded spirit looks for rest, and have always felt refreshed after it.
My only hope in connection with the poetry I have thus made is, that
those who may incline to read what I have written will take as much
pleasure in reading as I have taken in writing it, and that the result
to myself will be a justification for having published the work, to be
found only in that public appreciation which I h