Lucretia Maria Davidson

(written in her fifteenth year) Life is but a troubled ocean, Hope a meteor, love a flower Which blossoms in the morning beam, And whithers with the evening hour.…

(written in her twelfth year) With snow-clad top, and far projecting height, Yon mist-wrapp'd mountain rises on my sight; There fancy's pencil draws a world unseen, For ever smilin…

There is a smile of bitter scorn, Which curls the lip, which lights the eye; There is a smile in beauty’s morn, Just rising o’er the midnight sky.…

O thou whose care sustained my infant years, And taught my prattling lip each note of love; Whose soothing voice breathed comfort to my fears, And round my brow hope’s brightest ga…

(Written in her fifteenth year) How sweet the hour when daylight blends With the pensive shadows on evening’s breast; And dear to the heart is the pleasure it lends, For ‘tis like…