The Nightingale

	Love burns in a young man's heart,
	He would give her the moon and the stars,
	And all the
	Treasures of the
	Pharaohs for a moment in her arms;
	To the Ball with him she will go, if her brings a red, red rose,
	But there is only a rose of white in his garden green;
	And calling up to the sky, the birds heard his lonely cry;"Sing for her sweet Nightingale, tell her of my love,Bring for her sweet Nightingale a red, red rose of love;Said the tree to the Nightingale,"
	Upon this thorn you must impale your heart,
	And then the blood will turn this white rose red;"All night, the little bird sang,But in the morning she was gone,And beside her on the ground lay a red, red rose;When the boy found it there, joy came from his despair;"
	You sang for her, sweet
	Nightingale,
	You told her of my love,
	You bring for her, sweet
	Nightingale,
	This red, red rose of love;"So he brought her the beautiful rose,"
	To the Ball with me you will go,""
	But no," she said, "
	I have jewels instead,
	Another has won my heart, and from you,
	Now I must part, so take your foolish rose and go!"Sing for her sweet Nightingale,Sing from Heaven above,Bring for her sweet Nightingale,The wisdom that is love, the wisdom that is love.