"What man refused thou hast afforded me.
What is thy wish? Make known to me thy choice;
The God of love and power will grant it thee!"
"I ask no brighter hue," the rose replied,
"Both old and young smile on me as they pass,
My buds adorn the bosom of the bride,
And hide among the locks of lovely lass;
With fragrance, too, I own myself content,
For naught on earth surpasses me in this;
But if, indeed, my Maker thee has sent