The fast unfolding of each human flower,
In hues of more than earthly brilliance dyed.
And then—the blight, the fading, the first fear,
The sickening hope, the doom, the end of all:
Heart withering, if indeed all ended here.
But from the dust, the coffin, and the pall,
Mother bereaved, thy tearful eyes upraise,
Mother of angels, join their songs of praise!
As we have before said, a son of this gifted and accomplished woman was also a poet and one of no slight ability. For several years previous to his death, he contributed to the pages of the "Southern Literary Messenger' and other periodicals of the day. To him we are indebted for the completion of a poem, "The Parting of Decourcy and Wilhelmine," left unfinished by Lucretia at the time of her death, and found by her mother among her manuscripts. That portion of it—from the seventeenth to the last stanza inclusive—1nentioned in the original edition of the poems as being furnished by another hand, is from the pen of Lieutenant Davidson. It is marked by greater vigor, and displays a fuller acquaintance with the subject—carrying out, however, the same idea initiated by Lucretia—than she, with all her innate knowledge and appreciation of the same, could have hoped to have given to it. Indeed, it breathes in every line a soldierly spirit.
A brief sketch of this brother of Lucretia, with a selection from his writings, will not, we trust, be uninteresting to the readers of this volume.
