[Fourth messenger, a Forget-me-not.

Forget-me-not

  Fair Princess,
  Down by the brook, when the sun was low,
  A brave knight paused to slake
  His thirst in the water’s silver flow,
  As he journeyed far for thy sake.

  He saw me bending above the stream,
  And he said, “Oh, happy spot! 
  Ye show me the Princess Winsome’s eyes
  In each blue forget-me-not.” 
  He bade me bring you my name to hide
  In your heart of hearts for ever,
  And say as long as its blooms are blue,
  No power true hearts can sever.

Princess sings

  Spin, spin, O golden thread. 
  O wheel, my happy lot
  It is to hide within my heart
  That name, forget-me-not.

[Fifth messenger, a Poppy.

Poppy

  Dear Princess Winsome,
  Within the shade of a forest glade
  He laid him down to sleep,
  And I, the Poppy, kept faithful guard
  That it might be sweet and deep. 
  But oft in his dreams he stirred and spoke,
  And thy name was on his tongue,
  And I learned his secret ere he woke,
  When the fair new day was young. 
  And this is what he, whispering, said,
  As he journeyed on in his way: 
  “Bear her my dreams in your chalice red,
  For I dream of her night and day.”

Princess sings

  Spin, spin, O golden thread. 
  He dreams of me night and day! 
  The poppy’s chalice is sweet and red. 
  Oh, Love will find a way!

[Sixth messenger, a Daisy.

Daisy

  O Princess fair,
  Far on the edge of the Summer-land
  I stood with my face to the sun,
  And the brave knight counted with strong hand
  My petals, one by one.

  And he said, “O Daisy, white and gold,
  The princess must count them too. 
  By thy petals shall she be told
  If my long, far quest is through.

  “Whether or not her knight has found
  The South Wind’s flute that he sought.” 
  So over the hills from the Summer-land,
  Your true knight’s token I’ve brought.

[Gives Princess a large artificial daisy.  She counts petals, slowly dropping them one by one.

Princess

  Far on the edge of the Summer-land,
  O Daisy, white and gold,
  My true love held you in his hand. 
  What was the word he told?

  He’s found it.  Found it not. 
  Found it.  Found it not.

  That magic flute of the South Wind, sweet,
  Will he blow it, over the lea? 
  Will the fairy folk its call repeat,
  And hasten to rescue me?

  He’s found it, found it not. 
  Found it, found it not. 
  Found it, found it not. 
  He’s found it!

[Turning to the dog.

  Come, Hero!  Hear me, brother mine;
  Thy gladness must indeed be mute,
  But oh, the joy!  We’re saved!  We’re saved! 
  My knight has found the silver flute!