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288   LUCRETIA AND MARGARET DAVIDSON. 

fame were soon lost again, in happier, calmer hopes of an abiding heaven. 

Dear child! she little knew that so soon both were to be hers—"an honoured name" on earth, and "a glorious crown" in heaven.  Like all true poets, she had a keen relish for the beauties of nature, and fed upon them from her infancy. Her earliest home was upon the banks of the Saranac, commanding a fine view of Lake Champlain, and surrounded by the most romantic and picturesque scenery; but wherever she resided, she found something to admire and love, upon the earth or in the sky. 

Margaret was always instructed by her mother, whose poetical tastes and affectionate disposition made her capable of appreciating and sympathizing with the warm impulses and aspiring thoughts of her sweet pupil.  The love between this mother and daughter is a poem of itself.  No one can read the memoir of Margaret, by Washington Irving, without feeling the heart, if not the eyes, overflow.  But the links that bound them to each other on earth were soon severed;—for when she was but fifteen years and eight months old, this gentle girl died at Ballston, Saratoga County, in November 1838.  We could not wish that she should have staid longer on earth, an exile from her native heaven; yet, as we listen to the soaring strains of her young genius, and are borne upward by their energy, we cannot help wondering what would have been its thrilling tones and lofty flights, had life unfolded its mysteries year after year to her poet's eye.  But we thank God she was spared the sight of them; for though we have lost the songs, she has missed the sorrow! 

Robert Southey, interested in Lucretia's story, wrote eloquently upon it in the London Quarterly Review.  His high estimate of her genius may with equal truth be applied to both sisters.  "There is enough originality, enough of aspiration, enough of conscious energy, enough of growing power, in their poems, to warrant any expectations, however sanguine, which the patrons, and friends, and parents of the deceased could have formed."


LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON.   289 

LUCRETIA.
 
TO MY SISTER.

When evening spreads her shades around, 
And darkness fills the arch of heaven; 
When not a murmur, not a sound
to Fancy's sportive ear is given; 

When the broad orb of heaven is bright. 
And looks around with golden eye;
When Nature, soften'd by her light,
Seems calmly, solemnly to lie; 

Then, when our thoughts are raised above 
This world, and all this world can give; 
Oh, sister, sing the song I love, 
And tears of gratitude receive. 

The song which thrills my bosom's core,
And hovering, trembles, half afraid; 
O sister, sing the song once more 
Which ne'er for mortal ear was made. 

'T were almost sacrilege to sing  
Those notes amid the glare of day; 
Notes borne by angel's purest wing, 
And wafted by their breath away. 

When sleeping in my grass-grown bed, 
Should'st thou still linger here above, 
Wilt thou not kneel beside my head, 
And, sister, sing the song I love?
25   T

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---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 10:56:51