have her portrait painted, and to send it to me. She begged me not to make the parting scene long, otherwise she was afraid she should be too much affected to be able to return. “My limbs will scarcely support me,” said she, in broken accents, “and my heart is ready to burst. I cannot weep now; but when you are gone God will give me tears, so that I shall not be quite alone.” I was myself so overpowered with the pain of parting and the grief of my beloved Mimili, that I could not find words to give vent to the feelings of my oppressed heart.
Mimili drew from the sweet recess of her chaste bosom a simple blue flower. “Take this,” said she, “and let it remind you of me. We call it man’s-truth.[1] I picked it this morning at the foot of the seat where there is so much clover. And now farewell, my only love till death. God above be witness that I never will forget you! I love you more than my own life. Ah! now I can weep again. I am happy—inexpressibly happy. My eye overlooks the short space of a year, and my heart anticipates the exquisite delight of our reunion. Here the faithful maiden will await her own true lover. Now farewell, farewell!”
She sunk exhausted in my arms; she clasped
- ↑ Eryngeum Alpinum; consequently a different flower from the Forget-me-not.
