« 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. »