“SHEsaidthatshewoulddancewithmeifIbroughtherredroses,” criedtheyoungStudent; “butinallmygardenthereisnoredrose.”
Fromhernestintheholm-oaktreetheNightingaleheardhim, andshelookedoutthroughtheleaves, andwondered.“Noredroseinallmygarden!” hecried, andhisbeautifuleyesfilledwithtears.“Ah, onwhatlittlethingsdoeshappinessdepend! Ihavereadallthatthewisemenhavewritten, andallthesecretsofphilosophyaremine, yetforwantofaredroseismylifemadewretched.”
“Hereatlastisatruelover,” saidtheNightingale.“NightafternighthaveIsungofhim, thoughIknewhimnot: nightafternighthaveItoldhisstorytothestars, -blossom, andhislipsareredastheroseofhisdesire; butpassionhasmadehisfacelikepaleivory, andsorrowhassethersealuponhisbrow.”
“ThePrincegivesaballtomorrownight,” murmuredtheyoungStudent, “, Ishallholdherinmyarms, andshewillleanherheaduponmyshoulder, , soIshallsitlonely, , andmyheartwillbreak.”
“Hereindeedisthetruelover,” saidtheNightingale.“WhatIsingof, hesuffers: whatisjoytome, , , , norcanitbeweighedoutinthebalanceforgold.”
