"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 home 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 should

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."