Franklin Place became the favorite walk with the young men of Boston, many of whom never failed once or twice daily to pass her house, with the hope of catching a glimpse of her at one of its windows. Dr. Malcolm's church, of which she was a member, also added many devotees to its congregation, William Lloyd Garrison being among the number, who confessed that he occasionally went there with the hope of seeing the lovely face of Emily Marshall. Nor was the repute of her beauty confined to her native city. Wherever she went her unusual presence was instantly felt; she needed no society correspondent to herald her, no princely admirer to create prestige for her. Her claim to the world's homage was self-evident. She was a queen in her own right. When she visited Philadelphia, so great was the desire to see her that the young girls were let out of school before the usual closing hour, that they might have an opportunity to see her as she passed along the street. While she was at Saratoga, "gay, amusing, and confusing," reached in those days from Boston by a tedious stage-coach ride across the country, she never left the hotel nor returned to it without attracting a throng of people, eager even for a passing glimpse of her. Nathaniel Parker Willis, who once had made a journey in the same coach in which Emily Marshall and her mother were travelling, related afterwards that wherever the coach stopped for dinner the news of the marvellous beauty of one of the passengers was spread abroad so rapidly that by the time Miss Marshall returned to her seat in the coach a great crowd of people would be assembled to see her. The following is Willis's very pretty acrostic on Emily Marshall, which is included in his published verses in the form of a sonnet: "Elegance floats about thee like a dress, Melting the airy motion of thy form Into one swaying grace, and loveliness, Like a rich tint that makes a picture warm, Is lurking in the chestnut of thy tress, Enriching it as moonlight after storm Mingles dark shadows into gentleness. A beauty that bewilders like a spell Reigns in thine eyes' dear hazel, and thy brow, So pure in veined transparency, doth tell How spiritually beautiful art thou,-- A temple where angelic love might dwell, Life in thy presence were a thing to keep, Like a gay dreamer clinging to his sleep." Percival's sonnet, published in the _Literary Gazette_ of Philadelphia, August, 1825, is perhaps the best known of the poetical outpourings which her loveliness inspired. It also is an acrostic.