50 POETICAL LANGUAGE OP FLOWERS. 
the earth, and stood ankle-deep in the blue flowers of 
the Forget-me-not—they had sprung from the angel’s 
tears; and high in the air he heard a floating, unem¬ 
bodied voice, sweeter than that music which had 
cheered his lonely watch, when he kept guard beside 
the battlements of heaven, while the helmed cherubims 
flew forth to wage war against the fallen angels. It 
was the voice of her for whose love he had sacrificed 
heaven: and, kneeling amid the blue flowers, with 
clasped hands, motionless as a statue, the low, aerial 
music shaped itself into words, as it fell upon his eai , 
and he held his breath with awe, for he knew that it 
was now an immortal voice which said — 
By the wold and by the wildwood, 
By lonely mere, and water’d lea, 
Haunts of age, and sportive childhood, 
I am doomed to follow thee: 
By the torrent it was utter’d, 
’Mid the flowers that round it blow, 
And upon the breeze was mutter’d 
The sad sentence of our woe— 
And each bud and bell that’s hollow, 
Bade thee lead where I must follow; 
