In gentle pity opened out her soul. And sweetly did she question how he fared, And how it went with his calamities, And pity her majestic heart enthralled, While he, she saw, with ardent passion glowed. And while the Rose her jewels scattered round, The Nightingale gave utterance to his soul. The bird sang loud, the flower lent listening ear, And soft caresses thus were interchanged; And many things were said on either side, And when their mutual greetings closed at last, And the Rose started on her journey home, The Nightingale broke out in strains of song. And when the well-beloved had flown away, The amorous bird cried after her in vain; And once again began his loving lay, Reiterating echoes of his pain. All his great passion had come back to him, That momentary bliss was but a dream. He said, in wanderings of wonder lost, “Whither has fled this union sweet of bliss? Oh, what a wondrous incident is this! Hard to believe has this occurrence been; And since the world is unsubstantial show, How is it that to me true suffering comes? Where is distress, and where is happiness? Where is compassion, what is trustworthy? And this fair Rose who stood before my cage, Where are the sweet caresses of my friend? Shall happiness return to me through her? Or was my hope nothing but fantasy-- The fantasy of overwrought desire-- That it so quickly fades upon my sight?” And in this plight the wretched singer gave, From throbbing throat, his call for pity’s aid. LIV THE LOVELY ROSE SENDS THE CHEERFUL EAST WIND TO THE MONARCH OF SPRING ASKING HIM TO FREE THE NIGHTINGALE