Page:Forget Me Not 1844.pdf/5



The Knight and the Maiden stand Again by their own fair stream; And the Knight gazes round as all Were but a beautiful dream.

Then told the Maid how she wept O'er many a phantom fear, That in an absent hour Like twilight shades appear;

How, garbed as a Minstrel-boy, His prison she had sought, And by her patient love Had his deliverance wrought.

She told how she had flung The seeds of their signal flower, In trust that its glad sight Would cheer his prison hour.

Next morn came a sound of lutes And song from a fair array, And flowers were scattered round, To hail their bridal day.

There was not a summer bloom In their many wreaths forgot: In the bride's hair was only one, Her own FORGET ME NOT.