Works of James O'Connor, the deaf poet, with a biographical sketch of the author ...

Front matter

1^ vvXvNv

J f* iiiiift!!:

< »tiii i n i »!ni'ii'yjPjHi"i i i i KH»! ' u ii iKH'ji"k'uw ' M < "" ' ! y* '^1l" "y""*S

Preface

In presenting this small collection of Poems to the public, the author feels inchned to make but few apologies for the many imperfections with which they abound. No man can claim perfection for himself, nor should he expect it from others. There is none perfect. Solomon, with all his wisdom, did many foolish things; King David, a man after God's own heart, did many wicked things; and, although it is hard to understand how an All-wise Creator, perfect in wisdom and foreknowledge, could do any thing he should be sorry for, yet, in Genesis vi. 6, we read, "that it repented him that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart.''

Gleaners in the best cultivated fields of literature discover many brambles and tares. If the husbandman wishes pure wheat he must separate it from the straw and chaff with which it is connected.

A literary production may sometimes sparkle with gems of thought, but there is no sand so rich with gold but that it needs to be sifted.

vi PREFACE.

If the literary assa3^er (the reading pubUc), after carefully examining this rough specimen of mine, should fail to discover any real grains of gold, and should pronounce the ore worthless, then I shall be compelled to acknowledge that I have wasted much time and labor in working up an unprofitable lode, that is found to be rich only in "fool's gold" at last.

Laboring under my present physical disabilities, but few persons would be foolhardy enough to make even the slightest pretensions to authorship. My hearing began to fail me before I had acquired the first rudiments of an education, and for some time past I have been entirely deaf. The little education I have acquired, has been acquired with great difficulty, and, for that reason, the offence should be all the more pardonable, if its value should appear to be over-estimated by its possessor.

From early childhood I have had to rely on excessive manual labor as a means of support, and consequently, have had but limited opportunities for mental culture. It was not my fortune to be " born with a silver spoon in my mouth"; nor w^as I ever one of those youthful prodigies that ''lis'p in numlers^\' and whether T am truly entitled to the appellation of Poet, or not, I leave for a just and discriminating public to determine. I once read a small volume of poems that had been written by Fry, and as the volume was small, the author must have been '' small fry y But he said there

PREFACE,

VI 1 were three qualifications esential for a Poet: empty pockets, worn-out elbows, and disappointed love. To the two first qualifications I plead guilty. Of the third and last I am innocent.

Many of my pieces have been composed while holding the plough, or engaged in other field labor, and are the unpolished productions of one who entertains but feeble hopes of ever acquiring even the slightest celebrity in the difficult and uncertain fields of literature; and what success I shall meet with as an author, I am unable to foretell. Better and wiser men have failed, and it is possible that as great or even greater fools may have succeeded. I shall endeavor to make the best use of the few talents given me, and leave it for others to write better in proportion as God has given them the natural abihties, and fortune has favored them with greater opportunities of acquiring knowledge.

James O'Connor.