And when the day dissolved the company, The feast renewed itself through all the night. Soon as in heaven the constellations bright, Assembled round the moon, their empress queen. The stars that fluttering like butterflies, Were gathered in the palace of the moon, So gathered nobles in the rose garden, With friendship and with pledging of the wine. And now the Rose was filled with wild desire, The Nightingale his loveliest chanson poured. And the narcissus lit his golden lamps, And brightened all the spaces of the grove, And the glass circled ’mid the merry throng, And lute and castanet their music made. The flutes with their shrill notes began to sound, Commingled with the tinkling tambourine. And round in rank on rank the flowers were ranged. Buds blew the horn, and roses beat the drum, The very violets in the music joined. While all the larch-trees rustled in accord. Narcissus beat the drum with thundering note, Through the whole rout the pattering tomtom rang, The lilies took the hautboys in their hands, The tulips blew their bagpipes, and each played On every side the instrument he chose, And so the merry concert filled the groves. The cypress led the dance at his own will, His step kept time to the musician’s note, And the East Wind sighed softly over all, Amid the clangor of the flute and horn. And so the revel sounded deep and high As flutes, or dying harmonies ordained, And clamor filled with shouts the rose garden, And all the city rang to beat of drum. And drowsy fumes of wine made tottering feet, The red from many a lip was kissed away. The Nightingale is drunk for happiness, Sunk in the melody of his desire. He thinks upon the lips of her he loves, And ceases not to sip the ruddy wine, And the Rose blushes as she pledges him, And all his keen desire she turns to bliss. And tender protestations there are heard, And happy pledges are between them made, And love from both sides breathes its scented breath, And the sweet pang of passion fills that hour, And not a cloud was in the placid sky. The lover stood possessed of his beloved, And ever higher mantled pleasure’s tide, Till all the consciousness of life was lost. The Rose and Nightingale together there, In undisturbed communion abode. And many a word of tenderness they spoke, Threading in speech the mazes of their love, Propitious was the opportunity. They were united ne’er to be divorced. The lover and the object of his love Were rendered one in passion’s glowing hour. The dance of love went on till morning light, The feast of passion lasted till the dawn. No sleep their eyelids closed, and till the morn They ceased not quaffing of the ruby wine. LVIII THE HAPPINESS OF THE ROSE AND NIGHTINGALE DOES NOT CONTINUE