Ankle-deep in the dew,

With hopes to dear to be spoken,

I searched the

grass-plot through

Fill I found the fairy token.

Shyly hiding from sight

The nodding grasses under, I drew it forth to the light

Here is my your leaved wonder:

A small affair of you

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Ito outward presence merely,

a man

Io wake in: the heart of a

The hope that he holds most dearly.

I'll prove before it is over,

Whether it is time or no

That luck's in

four-leaved clover &

Mary Bradley.

THE FORGET-ME-NOT.

In vain I search'd the garden through,

In vain the meadow gay,

For some sweet flower which might to you
A kindly thought convey.

One spoke too much of hope and bloom,
For those who know of man the doom;
Another, queen of the parterre,
Thorns on her graceful stem did bear;
A third, alas! seem'd all toc frail
For ruder breath than Summer gale.

I turn'd me thence to where, beneath
The hedgerow's verdant shade,
The lowliest gems of Flora's wreath,
Their modest charms display'd;
Lured by its name, one simple flower
From its meek sisterhood I bore,
And bade it hasten to impart

The breathings of a faithful heart,
And plead-"Whate'er your future lot,
In weal or woe-Forget-me-not."

-Anonymous.