THE CAPTIVE AND THE FLOWERS. 
VIOLET. 
I stand concealed, and bending low, 
And do not love to speak ; 
Yet will I, as *tis fitting now, 
My wonted silence break. 
For if ’tis I, thou gallant man, 
Thy heart desires, thine, if I can, 
My perfumes all T’ll make. 
CAPTIVE. 
The Violet I esteem indeed, 
So modest and so kind ; 
Its fragrance sweet yet more I need, 
To soothe mine anguished mind. 
To you the truth will I confess ; 
Here, ’mid this rocky dreariness, 
My love I ne’er shall find. 
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 flower, 
And says, ‘‘Forget me not!” 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. 
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