THESE VERSES (which some friends call by the higher title of Poems--to which appellation the Author objects), --were written at random, --off and on, --here, --there, --anywhere, --just when the mood came, with little of study and less of art, --and always in a hurry. Hence they are incomplete in finish, as the Author is;--tho' he thinks they are true in tone. His feet know more of the humble steps that lead up to the Altar and its Mysteries, than of the steeps that lead up to Parnassus and the Home of the Muses. And souls were always more to him than songs. But still somehow, --and he could...