44 
And to my cottage home repair, 
Its pride and light to shine ; 
To every inmate’s heart thou’rt dear, 
But dearest still to mine. 
Forget me not. — 1 My name is a spell.’ 
This flower grows wild upon the banks of almost every stream 
in our country; a small blue star, not at all like the Pansy, to which 
its name is often misapplied. 
Sweet, pretty Flower! that shuns parade, 
Oh, leave with me this lowly shade. 
Nor here, unloved, unnoticed fade. 
Thou hast a charm, dear flower, for me, 
Which I have found in none but thee, 
And a fit emblem seem’st to be, 
