essence of poesy, and who gave such excellent promise and token of a glorious career, should have so early passed away. Had she lived until womanhood, who can tell what she might have accomplished! Without being a great poet, she yet possessed all the attributes of one, and many of her earliest productions contained evidences of poetic power, which needed only culture and proper guidance—which, had her health and years permitted, she would have received—to have made her the peeress of the fairest poets of the land. As it is, we can only speak of her as a child—a wondrous child, though; sensitive to excess, and thoughtful beyond her years. Precocious, too, though not through study, but by nature; she seemed intuitively to know things which puzzle ofttimes the learned; though where or how she gained her knowledge, was a mystery even to those by whom she was daily surrounded,—her parents, her teachers, and her friends.
Her productions were not, as one might think, the result entirely of laborious work; many of them were born on the inspiration of the moment, when the divine afflatus was full upon her; and yet others were the result of careful thought and study; but however this was, their composition was always to her a heartfelt pleasure. Other children of her years would find their chief enjoyment in play; but she was never happier than when engaged in composing a poem which was as much a recreation to her as it would have been a task to most others.
As a poet, Lucretia Davidson possessed a depth of
