As far as the seventy-fourth page, these Poems have been printed about two years; during which many things happened likely to prevent their ever appearing. The time, however, is now come, and I have to-day found the remainder, up to where the lines end with

"Its unpolluted birthright."

On reading the whole over, they struck me with much surprise, as they appear in a singular manner prophetic. I wrote them with a general, and somewhat undefined view; and they now take the aspect of speaking on what has since happened to myself—a long seclusion, during which I was bereft of the common means of study, having given rise to one that has turned out far more important than I at first imagined, and which I have continued since, to the exclusion of every other pursuit.

Stonkam, May 10th, 1818.

Vignettes.