The works of the poet coachman

Preface

^^PHE following compositions have been written during a cT^ ^ on £ u ^ e as a servant - I was born in Fearby, and raised at Crosslanes, just below, two miles from Masham, in Yorkshire. I had the best of mothers. Her name was Ann Parnaby. My father's name was Francis Suttill. He died before I could know him. Mother was left with five lads, of whom I was the fourth, and the worst in the family.

As to grammar, I never learned it ; therefore, don't expect it in these compositions. But if I was hungry, I know how to ask for a bit of bread, and would easily understand a cold, heartless denial, when it was so keenly needed. I am not insensible to human woe; and woman's lovely form and face are my delight.

And now, if any of my many readers feel half as happy as I did when composing the following pieces, I shall not have written in vain. If it shall, in the future, be found that I have helped you, dear reader, to occupy your leisure hours to advantage, do HOI think me, for I was impelled to do so by a power over which 1 had no control. But I was its willing slave. All birds cannot be nightingales, nor all men poets.

Some birds fly through the air,

And some warble it everywhere ;

So some men live a life of drudgery,

Others a life of joy, all fancy free.

And could I but with a little feather quill,

My own allotted task on earth fulfill, —

To arouse the dormant souls of noble men,

I should not use in vain my idle pen.

Ev'n some spark first kindled the living fire

In Patti's soul, to tune the heavenly lyre.

Then could I lay my useless body down,

If one should catch the flame, though all the world should frown.

All cannot sing, but all can go and hear,

And feel the heavenly rapture, and weep the silent tear.

How base is he who has not got a heart

To feel, with grief, when others have to smart !

Oh, sin ! why wast thou ever bred on earth ?

Thou art the cankerworm wdiich spoileth all our mirth.

But I write not for fame or glittering gold ;

True talent's a thing which cannot be sold.

And now, as the world is made up of all the odds and ends of the earth, those who are extremely devout will find something worth reading. But let them not get offended if they find something sentimental for those who love it. Remember that thou wast once in the same captivity.

And now I commit myself to an impartial Public at my own expense. If this work leaves me in poverty, it is but the lot of poets ; and I will be pleased if through you I am able to lift up my head any higher than my fellow coachmen.

Them I shall always respect, for their long patience in

enduring the extreme cold for hours at many a door, while

their employers are warm within ; and blessed is the man

who has a kind and considerate employer. Let such ever

hold all beneath his charge as a sacred trust committed

to him (in his employer's absence) as if it was his own.

Good conduct and fidelity ever brings its own reward. And

you, my fellow coachmen who have hard places, endure them.

The lowest spoke in your carriage wheels rises to the top in

the turning. May God give you all favor in your masters' eyes,

and may God bless this glorious country is the prayer of your

fellow-servant,

MATTHEW SUTTILL.

Dedication

IF I MIGHT BE PERMITTED TO DEDICATE THIS WORK OF MINE TO THAT

DEAR BEING WHO CHOSE TO TAKE THE MAN OF HER

CHOICE, I WOULD GLADLY DO IT, FOR