So, when she ceased, he pulled the fairest rose on the tree; he took from it every thorn, he put it in her breast, he kissed the rose, and he kissed her rose-like face. Then he took up the song where she 238 dropped it; and hand in hand, keeping time to its melody, they crossed the threshold of their blessed home.
“The robin sang beneath the eaves:
‘There is a rose of a hundred leaves,
But the wild rose is the sweetest!’
“The nightingale made answer clear:
‘O darling rose! more fair, more dear!
O rose of a hundred leaves!’”
