Blossom that lov'st on shadowy banks to lie, Gemming the deep rank grass with flowers so blue, That the pure turquoise matched with their rich hue Pales, fades, and dims; so exquisite a dye, That scarce the brightness of the autumn sky, Which sleeps upon the bosom of the stream, On whose fringed margent thy star-flowerets gleam In its clear azure with thy tints may vie; Shade-loving flower, I love thee! not alone That thou dost haunt the greenest coolest spot, For ever, by the tufted alder thrown, Or arching hazel, or vine mantled cot, But that thy very name hath a sweet tone Of parting tenderness -- Forget me not! |