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THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE







〃She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses;〃

cried the young Student; 〃but in all my garden there is no red

rose。〃



From her nest in the holm…oak tree the Nightingale heard him; and

she looked out through the leaves; and wondered。



〃No red rose in all my garden!〃 he cried; and his beautiful eyes

filled with tears。  〃Ah; on what little things does happiness

depend!  I have read all that the wise men have written; and all

the secrets of philosophy are mine; yet for want of a red rose is

my life made wretched。〃



〃Here at last is a true lover;〃 said the Nightingale。  〃Night after

night have I sung of him; though I knew him not:  night after night

have I told his story to the stars; and now I see him。  His hair is

dark as the hyacinth…blossom; and his lips are red as the rose of

his desire; but passion has made his face like pale ivory; and

sorrow has set her seal upon his brow。〃



〃The Prince gives a ball to…morrow night;〃 murmured the young

Student; 〃and my love will be of the company。  If I bring her a red

rose she will dance with me till dawn。  If I bring her a red rose;

I shall hold her in my arms; and she will lean her head upon my

shoulder; and her hand will be clasped in mine。  But there is no

red rose in my garden; so I shall sit lonely; and she will pass me

by。  She will have no heed of me; and my heart will break。〃



〃Here indeed is the true lover;〃 said the Nightingale。  〃What I

sing of; he suffers … what is joy to me; to him is pain。  Surely

Love is a wonderful thing。  It is more precious than emeralds; and

dearer than fine opals。  Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it; nor

is it set forth in the marketplace。  It may not be purchased of the

merchants; nor can it be weighed out in the balance for gold。〃



〃The musicians will sit in their gallery;〃 said the young Student;

〃and play upon their stringed instruments; and my love will dance

to the sound of the harp and the violin。  She will dance so lightly

that her feet will not touch the floor; and the courtiers in their

gay dresses will throng round her。  But with me she will not dance;

for I have no red rose to give her〃; and he flung himself down on

the grass; and buried his face in his hands; and wept。



〃Why is he weeping?〃 asked a little Green Lizard; as he ran past

him with his tail in the air。



〃Why; indeed?〃 said a Butterfly; who was fluttering about after a

sunbeam。



〃Why; indeed?〃 whispered a Daisy to his neighbour; in a soft; low

voice。



〃He is weeping for a red rose;〃 said the Nightingale。



〃For a red rose?〃 they cried; 〃how very ridiculous!〃 and the little

Lizard; who was something of a cynic; laughed outright。



But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student's sorrow;

and she sat silent in the oak…tree; and thought about the mystery

of Love。



Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight; and soared into the

air。  She passed through the grove like a shadow; and like a shadow

she sailed across the garden。



In the centre of the grass…plot was standing a beautiful Rose…tree;

and when she saw it she flew over to it; and lit upon a spray。



〃Give me a red rose;〃 she cried; 〃and I will sing you my sweetest

song。〃



But the Tree shook its head。



〃My roses are white;〃 it answered; 〃as white as the foam of the

sea; and whiter than the snow upon the mountain。  But go to my

brother who grows round the old sun…dial; and perhaps he will give

you what you want。〃



So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose…tree that was growing

round the old sun…dial。



〃Give me a red rose;〃 she cried; 〃and I will sing you my sweetest

song。〃



But the Tree shook its head。



〃My roses are yellow;〃 it answered; 〃as yellow as the hair of the

mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne; and yellower than the

daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the mower comes with his

scythe。  But go to my brother who grows beneath the Student's

window; and perhaps he will give you what you want。〃



So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose…tree that was growing

beneath the Student's window。



〃Give me a red rose;〃 she cried; 〃and I will sing you my sweetest

song。〃



But the Tree shook its head。



〃My roses are red;〃 it answered; 〃as red as the feet of the dove;

and redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the

ocean…cavern。  But the winter has chilled my veins; and the frost

has nipped my buds; and the storm has broken my branches; and I

shall have no roses at all this year。〃



〃One red rose is all I want;〃 cried the Nightingale; 〃only one red

rose!  Is there no way by which I can get it?〃



〃There is away;〃 answered the Tree; 〃but it is so terrible that I

dare not tell it to you。〃



〃Tell it to me;〃 said the Nightingale; 〃I am not afraid。〃



〃If you want a red rose;〃 said the Tree; 〃you must build it out of

music by moonlight; and stain it with your own heart's…blood。  You

must sing to me with your breast against a thorn。  All night long

you must sing to me; and the thorn must pierce your heart; and your

life…blood must flow into my veins; and become mine。〃



〃Death is a great price to pay for a red rose;〃 cried the

Nightingale; 〃and Life is very dear to all。  It is pleasant to sit

in the green wood; and to watch the Sun in his chariot of gold; and

the Moon in her chariot of pearl。  Sweet is the scent of the

hawthorn; and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley; and

the heather that blows on the hill。  Yet Love is better than Life;

and what is the heart of a bird compared to the heart of a man?〃



So she spread her brown wings for flight; and soared into the air。

She swept over the garden like a shadow; and like a shadow she

sailed through the grove。



The young Student was still lying on the grass; where she had left

him; and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes。



〃Be happy;〃 cried the Nightingale; 〃be happy; you shall have your

red rose。  I will build it out of music by moonlight; and stain it

with my own heart's…blood。  All that I ask of you in return is that

you will be a true lover; for Love is wiser than Philosophy; though

she is wise; and mightier than Power; though he is mighty。  Flame…

coloured are his wings; and coloured like flame is his body。  His

lips are sweet as honey; and his breath is like frankincense。〃



The Student looked up from the grass; and listened; but he could

not understand what the Nightingale was saying to him; for he only

knew the things that are written down in books。



But the Oak…tree understood; and felt sad; for he was very fond of

the little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches。



〃Sing me one last song;〃 he whispered; 〃I shall feel very lonely

when you are gone。〃



So the Nightingale sang to the Oak…tree; and her voice was like

water bubbling from a silver jar。



When she had finished her song the Student got up; and pulled a

note…book and a lead…pencil out of his pocket。



〃She has form;〃 he said to himself; as he walked away through the

grove … 〃that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling?  I

am afraid not。  In fact; she is like most artists; she is all

style; without any sincerity。  She would not sacrifice herself for

others。  She thinks merely of music; and everybody knows that the

arts are selfish。  Still; it must be admitted that she has some

beautiful notes in her voice。  What a pity it is that they do not

mean anything; or do any practical good。〃  And he went into his

room; and lay down on his little pallet…bed; and began to think of

his love; and; after a time; he fell asleep。



And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the

Rose…tree; and set her breast against the thorn。  All night long

she sang with her breast against the thorn; and the cold crystal

Moon leaned down and listened。  All night long she sang; and the

thorn went deeper and deeper into her breast; and her life…blood

ebbed away from her。



She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a

girl。  And on the top…most spray of the Rose…tree there blossomed a

marvellous rose; petal following petal; as song followed song。

Pale was it; at first; as the mist that hangs over the river … pale

as the feet of the morning; and silver as the wings of the dawn。

As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver; as the shadow of a

rose in a water…pool; so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost

spray of the Tree。



But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the

thorn。  〃Press closer; little Nightingale;〃 cried the Tree; 〃or the

Day will come before the rose is finished。〃



So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn; and louder and

louder grew her song; for she sang of the birth of passion in the

soul of a man and a maid。



And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves of the ros

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