 | Poems and Romances |  |
129
FORGET-ME-NOTS.
Forget-me-nots were bloomingUnder the castle walls;
One said, “They are forgotten
Who feasted in its halls.”
“And who would be remembered?
What is the use of fame?”
A scholar cried; “for glory
Is near akin to shame.”
Yet he too plucked the flowers,
And his pale face flushed hot,
And gave one to a lady,
And said, “Forget-me-not.”
130
Burnt her young heart away;
The scholar in his college
Grew deaf and dull and grey.
But when they put the grave-clothes
On each of them at last,
They found that each had cherished
A relic of the past.
With each of them was buried,
To ripen or to rot,
Deep underground for ages,
A blue forget-me-not.
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