FOR GE T-ME-NO T. 117 
And wouldst thou venture for my love as thou wouldst 
for renown, 
To win for me those azure flowers, to deck my bridal 
crown ?” 
One parting kiss of his fair bride, and swiftly far away, 
Like the wild swan whose home he sought, young Albert 
met the spray 
Of rising waves, which foamed in wrath, as if some spirit’s 
hand 
Awoke the genii of the lake to guard their mystic land. 
The flowers were won, but devious his course lay back 
again; 
To stem the waters in their tow’ring rage he strove in 
vain: 
Fondly he glanced to the yet distant shore, where in 
despair 
His Ida stood with outstretched arms, ’mid shrieks and 
tears and prayer. 
Darker and fiercer gathered on the tempest in his wrath, 
The eddying waves with vengeful ire beset the fatal path; 
With the wild energy of death he well-nigh reached the 
spot, 
The azure flowers fell at her feet—“ Ida, Forget me not!” 
The words yet borne upon his lips, the prize seemed 
almost won, 
When ’mid the rush of angry waves he sank—for ever 
gone! 
Within a proud cathedral aisle was raised a costly tomb, 
Whose pure white marble like ethereal light amid the 
gloom 
