58 POETICAL LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
rejoice in thy companionship, and that, although a 
thousand years have strided by with silent steps, Time 
hath not abated an atom of their love. Who can tell 
the thoughts of Saxon Alfred when, wandering alone, 
crownless and sceptreless, he stretched himself on the 
lonely moor beneath the shadow of thy golden blos¬ 
soms, sighing for the fair queen he had left far behind ? 
When he bowed his kingly head, and, musing on thy 
beauty, buried in a solitary wild, thought how even 
regal dignity would be enhanced by Humility, and 
that, although thou didst grow there unmarked and 
unpruned, not a more princely flower waved in his 
own English garden. And thus musing he might 
pluck the Blue-bell that nodded beside thee, and see 
imaged in the humble and beautiful flower, an emblem 
of Constancy,—might mark how ye still grew together 
side by side, how the yellow Broom sheltered the azure 
Bell which bloomed beneath it, from storm and wind, 
and how, when the sunshine streamed out, the con¬ 
stant flower opened its blue eyes and looked upward, 
and thus they became enamoured of each other. 
That his thoughtful eye glanced over the silent waters 
of the lonely mere, where the White Water-lily sat, 
like a crowned queen upon a green throne of rounded 
