98 T/ie Forget-Me-Not. 



Where time on sorrow's page of gloom 



Has fixed its envious lot, 

 Or swept the record from the tomb, 



It says Forget-me-not. 



And this is still the loveliest flower, 



The fairest of the fair, 

 Of all that deck my lady's bower, 



Or bind her floating hair. 



This flower has been figured as a device on the seals of lovers, 

 and had its praises sung in their verses : 



To flourish in my favorite bower, 



To blossom round my cot, 

 I cultivate the little flower 



They call Forget-me-not. 



It springs where Avon gently flows, 



In wild simplicity, 

 And 'neath my cottage window grows, 



Sacred to love and thee. 



This pretty little flow'ret's dye, 



Of soft cerulean blue, 

 Appears as if from Ellen's eye 



It had received its hue. 



Though oceans now betwixt us roar, 



Though distant be our lot, 

 Ellen ! though we should meet no more, 



Sweet maid, Forget-me-not ! 



It frequently flowers in May, and continues to give out a suc- 

 cession of flowers until the end of August It is increased by 

 separating the roots, and planting them m a moist but free earth ; 

 and when planted thickly on banks or borders of streams, or 

 ornamental lakes, it is seen to peculiar advantage. When culti- 

 vated in pots, it ought to be shaded until the slips have taken 

 fresh root ; after which the pots should be placed in an open and 

 free air, giving them water when the weather is dry. When in 

 blossom, they may be taken into the house, where these elegant 

 little blue flowers, with their bright yellow eye, cannot fail to 

 attract all the admirers of nature's charms. This plant is some- 

 times seen growing naturally in dry grounds, but in such situa- 

 tions, both the plant and the flowers are very diminutive in com- 

 parison to those growing in or near the water. We earnestly 



