The First Forget-Me-Not

The First Forget-Me-Not.
A Legend.
249.2

Upon the Danube’s brink it grew,
A blossom of celestial hue,
A nameless flower-
Or was it but a turquoise rare,
Set in the gold of sunbeams there
By some strange power?

A gallant to his lady sighed,
Pointing across the rushing tide,
“For thee ’twas given;
It is the color of thine eyes,
The azure tint of summer skies,
The blue of heaven.”

And, oh, he was a comely knight,
In glittering steel or armor bright
From heel to visor;
And in his heart a goodly hoard
Of fond, unspoken vows were stored
By Love, the miser.

With curling lashes sweeping low,
And lips curved in a Cupid’s bow-
Proud beauty’s dower-
The lovely lady at his side
Clasped her white hands and softly cried:
“Fetch me the flower!”

The stranger blossom drooped its head
Yet lower on that alien bed,
As if in pity For one so gentle, pure and young-
As sweet a maid as ever sung
A true-love ditty.

For dark and deep the waters flowed,
As o’er the crumbling bridge he strode
To do her bidding,
And cold and pale the lady stood
Gazing upon the swollen flood,
Her faint heart chiding.

His foot slipped on the marshy ground,
The heavy armor swung him round Into the river,
But ere his struggles ceased there stole
Like music o’er his shuddering soul
A solemn quiver.

“Forget-me-not!” the blossom sweet
He flung at the fair lady’s feet-
A parting token;
And as the current swept him by
She knew with that last pleading cry
Her heart was broken.
-Lilita M. Lever.