302 
POPULAR TALES OF FLOWERS 
that first softened down the fierce spirit of English chi- 
valry^ and tamed the savage grandeur of feudal warfare. 
Lov.e had before seen her when, sad and pensive, she 
paced the garden after her mother’s death, when the 
youthful knight she loved was absent; but so wan and 
woe-begone was she then, that he would scarcely have 
recognised in the angelic form on the palfrey the 
Drooping Daisy. 
Beside a richly-sculptured urn, 
The Daisy of the Dale was kneeling; 
The tears were down her fair cheeks stealing, 
And many an outward sign revealing 
How deeply her young heart did mourn ; 
She held a portrait to her breast, 
And sighing said, “ Oh, be at rest ! 
Hush, heart! he will again return.” 
Her glance upon the picture fell ; 
She kissed the face she loved so well ; 
Now she turned red, again was pale. 
Just like the Daisy of the Dale, 
Whose rim is ruffled by the gale. 
When red and white in turn are seen, 
Coming and going through the green 
Of the ever-waving grass. 
A silken scarf that lady wore — 
’Twas picked up on a distant moor, 
Only a day or so before, 
And there the battle had been fought — ■ 
A faithful squire the token brought — 
The young knight he in vain had sought, 
“ I wove him this. On this he swore,” 
The Daisy said, “ I’ll think no more ! 
Dim doubts before my vision pass.” 
“ And yet when I this token see. 
And think what nights these wakeful eyes 
Bent o’er its dim embroidery. 
Painful emotions will arise. 
