PREFACE.

I Declare I hardly know how to ſay what juſtice to myſelf obliges me to ſay.—The public hears daily of ſo many unlucky Poets, who become publiſhers from the ſame fate that ranges me in their claſs, that I am apprehenſive the truth, when told, will not ſerve me as an apology, but the effect of conſtraint be reputed the wiſh of preſumption.

The courſe of my ſtudies firſt gave me a taſte for Poetry, and the ſweetneſs of the art inſpired me with an inclination to improve it.—The few who ſaw my verſes [vi] ſaid they liked them, and would ſome⯑times aſk for a copy of what they had ſeen.—The firſt pleaſure I know is to pleaſe; and indeed I thought complying with their requeſts an eaſy return for the obligation of their praiſe.—They had co⯑pies, and in their high opinion of me gave copies to others, who ſoon circulated ſome of my pieces, as particular favours to particular friends, through half a do⯑zen editions, of which three or four were generally very incorrect.

To prevent this evil from ſpreading, I have here collected in one ſmall book thoſe verſes of which I have ever given [vii] copies, as far as remembrance and poſ⯑ſeſſion have permitted me.

All parents have a partiality to their own child—ſo every Writer has a par⯑tiality to the productions of his own brain, that would rather they were ſeen in a perfect than an imperfect ſituation— and when a man's writings must unavoid⯑ably be delivered into the hands of the public, a decent reſpect for his own cha⯑racter, and good manners to his fellow⯑creatures will oblige him to endeavour, as much as poſſiible, that they may not ex⯑cite a contempt for himſelf, nor be en⯑tirely uſeleſs and diſguſting to his readers.

YORK, 1780.