OLD SAXON FLOWERS. 
59 
leaves, receiving homage from a thousand ripples, 
which were ever bowing down and kissing the pearly 
whiteness of her feet. How the snowy petals of this 
pale princess of the waters might recall the Purity of 
Heart of her he loved, how he might trace the outline 
of her beautiful brow in the golden crown of the flower, 
see in the silver-skirted ripples the moving forms of her 
attendants, and, catching another glimpse of the yel¬ 
low Broom, and the rounded Blue-bell, conjure up the 
Humility, and Constancy, and Purity of his own queen ; 
and, taking heart, strike some sad, sweet note on the 
silent harp, which had hitherto lain neglected beside 
him, and see rising before him a thousand homes, 
which no misbelieving Dane had ravished, and a king¬ 
dom freed from the desolating hand of the invader. 
How on a future day some proud Plantagenet might 
have heard the legend from the sweet lips of the fair 
Saxon he had espoused, and he might mount the hum- 
ble Broom in his haughty helmet, his cheek blanching 
while he gazed over the possessions be had gained by 
plunder and power, as he thought how in former days, 
the recovery of a kingdom had been planned, and won 
back, by a brave, and houseless king ; whose throne 
was then a solitary heath, canopied by a blue and 
