When bees hum in the linden tree
and roses bloom in cottage plots
Along the brookside banks we see
the blue wild forget-me-nots
Shy flowers that shun the prying eye
content to let the daisy hold
The glances of the passers-by
with brazen stare of white and gold
Forget-me-not
From long ago it stirs the thought
of happier days
For memories like wildflowers grow
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