The nightingale flew over the Rose-tree;give me a red rose for my friend ,-she cried.. but tree shook its head; my roses are red,it answered, as red 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... if you want a red rose stain it with your own hearts-blood. - Death is a great price to pay for a red rose,-cried Nightingale and life is very dear to all.... but love is better than life.. be happy, cried she,- you shall have your red rose, my dear friend, . I will build it and stain it with my own hearts- blood... but all that I ask of you will be a true lover, for love is wiser than Philosophy,though she is wise and mightier than Power, though he is mighty
Posted on: Sat, 04 Oct 2014 05:51:26 +0000
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