Excerpt from Works of James O'connor, the Deaf Poet: With a Biographical Sketch of the Author In presenting this small collection of Poems to the public, the author feels inclined 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.

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