The Nightingale and the Rose

ShesaidthatshewoulddancewithmeifIbroughtherredroses,”criedtheyoungStudent;“butinallmygardenthereisnoredrose.”

Fromhernestintheholm-oaktreetheNightingaleheardhim,andshelookedoutthroughtheleaves,andwondered.

“Noredroseinallmygarden!”hecried,andhisbeautifuleyesfilledwithtears.“Ah,onwhatlittlethingsdoeshappinessdepend!Ihavereadallthatthewisemenhavewritten,andallthesecretsofphilosophyaremine,yetforwantofaredroseismylifemadewretched.”

“Hereatlastisatruelover,”saidtheNightingale.“NightafternighthaveIsungofhim,thoughIknewhimnot:nightafternighthaveItoldhisstorytothestars,andnowIseehim.Hishairisdarkasthehyacinth-blossom,andhislipsareredastheroseofhisdesire;butpassionhasmadehisfacelikepaleivory,andsorrowhassethersealuponhisbrow.”

“ThePrincegivesaballto-morrownight,”murmuredtheyoungStudent,“andmylovewillbeofthecompany.IfIbringheraredroseshewilldancewithmetilldawn.IfIbringheraredrose,Ishallholdherinmyarms,andshewillleanherheaduponmyshoulder,andherhandwillbeclaspedinmine.Butthereisnoredroseinmygarden,soIshallsitlonely,andshewillpassmeby.Shewillhavenoheedofme,andmyheartwillbreak.”

“Hereindeedisthetruelover,”saidtheNightingale.“WhatIsingof,hesuffers:whatisjoytome,tohimispain.SurelyLoveisawonderfulthing.

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