Found

Found

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.

1815.