In November, 1852, I published the "Poet's Voice and other Poems," which was at once ill-advised and foolish, for scarcely more than twelve months had elapsed since I first began writing, and the work itself bears testimony to my want of experience in the art of poetry at that time. Before going to press I had collected about sixty names as subscribers, at one shilling each, and was deluded with the idea of a good sale amongst my own order; however, when it came out, only thirty out of the sixty individuals took their copies, and I was saddled with an edition unsold, and several pounds printing expences to pay. I sent several copies to the Press, and received two notices, which I subjoin for the benefit of those who may desire to see them. FROM THE "WEEKLY DISPATCH." "The Poet's Voice and other Poems, by James Powell. These poems, the productions of a working man, one who has struggled 'midst the frowns of poverty, without the means to command the literature so abundantly found in the mansions of the rich, contain many beauties among some unavoidable crudities of thought and expression, and are creditable alike to his heart and feeling. These are the tastes that deserve to be cultivated, and if the aspiration is not always equalled by the inspiration, there is enough left to shew the possession of an intelligence of no mean proportions." FROM THE "WEEKLY TIMES." "The Poet's Voice and other Poems, by James Powell. Go back to your study, Mr. Powell, and do not print any more of your verses until you have mastered, at least, some of the rules of versification. Take your first lines: 'Behold the night! the People's dreary night! What nonsense is this. What rugged sounds are here brought to grate upon the ear. Night is the very reverse of dreary to the People; it is then their freedom begins; it is then the shackles of their ill-paid toil fall from them; it is then they see the stars, which remind them of other and better worlds and their God, who has so beneficently provided for them. Did His boundless benefactions reach them without the 'foolish lets and artificial hindrances made by men to mar men's happiness?' A short ugly syllable like Ig in Ignorance requires a great deal of art to place it in a position so as not to offend the ear; but the merest tyro would tell you that such syllables as rance and lures cannot be put close together. There are some good ideas in more than one of the poems, but the language is so fearfully harsh, so raw and uncultivated, that it is scarcely to be hoped, Mr. Powell, you can ever acquire the art and mystery of poetry." Soon after I had published the Poet's Voice I left London, having obtained a situation at Wolverton, in the service of the London and North-Western Railway Company, where I remained for upwards of twelve months, during which time I was contributing to a provincial newspaper, "The Buck's Chronicle and Gazette." I delivered my first lecture at the Wolverton Mechanics' Institution, of which I was an active member, on "The Poetry of Feeling and the Poetry of Diction," which, fortunately, was well received by an audience of about two hundred, and subsequently printed (by request) at the expense of a majority of the members. My second lecture, on "The best means of Elevating the Working Classes," was delivered to a much smaller audience than the first, owing to the fact of its delivery taking place under disadvantageous circumstances. It, of course, is unnecessary to mention every minute particular up to the present time; it must suffice the reader to know that since that time I have experienced difficulties attendant on the destinies of most working men who have to struggle with the competitive selfishness of the age; but amidst the anxiety and almost constant worry of my life I have realized the most felicitous pleasure from the study of poetry, and am conscious of possessing more enlightened and liberal views from its aid. To me poetry has been the heaven of my soul, where all its aspirations tend. I make no pretensions to the majestic genius of a Shakespeare or a Milton; I feel that the humblest individuals can do some good, and aid, to some extent, the cause of human freedom; and I am content to know that some, who perchance may never read the magnificent works of our grand old Bards, and probably be unable to appreciate them if they should-may, from the humble efforts contained in the present volume, be led to a greater appreciation of the beauties of creation, and a stronger faith in the eternal principles of Progression. To Mr. THOMAS YARROW, Managing Engineer of the Canada Works, I beg to return my sincere thanks, and to acknowledge the very courteous and generous manner in which he has assisted in getting the present volume published. To my fellow-workmen and others who have aided me in my very responsible undertaking I beg likewise to tender my heartfelt thanks. J. H. P. The Village Bridal and other Poems. THE VILLAGE BRIDAL. PRELUDE. The sun's resplendent beams were nestling on each flower The earth's rich mart of variegated fruits with pride In stately grandeur stood, with leaf-crown'd branches spread, |