Floral Poetry. 
This farewell pledge the lady caught: 
And hence, as legends say, 
The flower is a sign to awaken thought 
For friends who are far away. 
For the lady fair, of the knight so true, 
Still remembered the hapless lot: 
And she cherished the flower of brilliant hue, 
And she braided her hair with the blossoms blue, 
And then called it “ Forget-me-not.” 
Bishop Mani. 
THE FORGET-ME-NOT. 
Y OT on the mountain’s shelving side, 
Nor in the cultivated ground, 
Nor in the garden's painted pride, 
The flower I seek is found. 
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. 
A non. 
