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 students 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 es with his scythe。 but go to my brother who grows beneath the students window； and perhaps he will give you what you want。〃 so the nightingale flew over to the rose…tree that was growing beneath the students 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 hearts…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 bee 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 pared 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 hearts…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 fee