Classic Poem

" 'Mid all the clang of battle field
Thy voice, Melane, I shall hear,
'Mid flashing helm and burnished shield
Those radiant eyes my heart will cheer".

" Ah! gentle Maid forget not me,
And wear this ring of tourquois blue".
How joys the Knight her tears to see!
With bounding heart he bids adieu.

The Knight is gone to the far Crusade,
Of glittering troops a captain bold:
The lady seeks the lonely glade,
Where strays the rivulet clear and cold.

The Knight beholds the azure deeps
And hills with sunny palms overgrown;
Melane by the cypress weeps
And gazes on her tourquois stone.

A Lordling seeks that Maiden's love,
But she her faith will ne'er resign,
He pulls in sport her silken glove,
" Let this at least", he cries, " be mine".

And with the glove the ring he drew:
And now 'tis in the limpid stream:
Like tearful eyes of tenderest blue
Those gems amid the waters gleam.

" An omen that my love shall speed!
Sink, hapless ring", exclaimed the Youth:
" Nay thus", cried she, " the omen read,
That I shall ne'er forget my truth".

" O let oblivion drown the spell,
That keeps Melane's soul from me!" —
" What Time has perfected so well
By Time shall ne'er dissolved be".

That ring the lady ne'er regains;
'Tis lost beneath the weedy floor;
Her hand the tempter ne'er obtains
On velvet mead or willowy shore.

Glad Spring returns, with zephyr bland,
To scatter buds and bells around:
The Knight comes home from Paynim land,
And Love is now with roses crowned.

The lovers seek the murmuring nook:
Of weary combats each can tell:
They stand beside the favourite brook,
Beneath whose wave the keepsake fell.

Behold a flow'r of purest blue
Bestows its beauty on the spot:
The Warrior blest his Lady true,
And called its name Forget me not .