Many a beauteous flower doth spring <br /> From the tears that flood my eyes, <br />And the nightingale doth sing <br /> In the burthen of my sighs. <br /> <br />If, O child, thou lovest me, <br /> Take these flowerets fair and frail, <br />And my soul shall waft to thee <br /> Love songs of the nightingale.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-song-heine/
