ONCE through the forest Alone I went; To seek for nothing My thoughts were bent. I saw i' the shadow A flower stand there; As stars it glisten'd, As eyes 'twas fair. I sought to pluck it,— It gently said: "Shall I be gather'd Only to fade?" With all its roots I dug it with care, And took it home To my garden fair. In silent corner Soon it was set; There grows it ever, There blooms it yet. |