ti6 THE 1 5ETET OF FLOWERS. 
The truest wife by yonder brook 
Will roam the mournful day, 
And hither cast the anxious look, 
Long as immured I stay. 
Whene’er she breaks a small blue floweE, 
And says, “ Forget me not 1” the power 
I feel, though far away. 
Yes, e’en though far, I feel its might, 
For true love joins us twain, 
And therefore ’mid the dungeon’s night 
I still in life remain. 
And sinks my heart at my hard lot, 
I but exclaim, “ Forget me not!” 
And straight new life regain. 
FRAGMENT. 
BY SIB WALTER SCOTT. 
And well the lonely infant knew 
Recesses where the wall-flower grew. 
And honeysuckle loved, to crawl 
Up the low crag and ruin’d wall. 
I deem’d such nooks the sweetest shade 
The sun in all his round survey’d, 
And still I thought that shatter’d tower 
The mightiest work of human power. 
