High above the city,
           on a tall column,
         stood the statue
               of the Happy Prince.

    He was
          gilded all
               over with thin leaves
                   of fine gold,
           for eyes
             he had two bright sapphires,
         and a large red ruby
            glowed on his sword-hilt.

    He was very much
          admired indeed.

    "He is
           as beautiful
         as a weathercock,"
          remarked one
               of the Town Councillors
             who wished
                  to gain a reputation for
                having artistic tastes;
            "only not quite so useful,"
                 he added,
               fearing lest people
                should think him unpractical,
             which he really was not.

    "Why can't you be
         like the Happy Prince?"

    asked a sensible mother
           of her little boy
         who was
              crying for the moon.

    "The Happy Prince
          never dreams
               of crying for anything."

    "I am glad
        there is some one
               in the world
         who is quite happy,"
            muttered a disappointed man as
             he gazed
                   at the wonderful statue.

    "He looks just
          like an angel,"
              said the Charity Children as
         they came
               out of the cathedral
                   in their bright scarlet cloaks
                       and their clean white pinafores.

    "How do you know?"

    said the Mathematical Master,
         "you have never seen one."

    "Ah!

    but we have,
           in our dreams,"
              answered the children;
        and the Mathematical Master
              frowned and looked very severe,
           for he
            did not
                  approve of children dreaming.

    One night there
        flew over
               the city
             a little Swallow.

    His friends
        had gone
              away to Egypt
                   six weeks before,
           but he had stayed behind,
         for he
            was in love
                   with the most beautiful Reed.

    He had
          met her early
               in the spring as
         he was
              flying down the river
                  after a big yellow moth,
           and had been so
              attracted by her slender waist
             that he
                had stopped
                      to talk to her.

    "Shall I love you?"

    said the Swallow,
           who liked
              to come to the point
                   at once,
         and the Reed
              made him a low bow.

    So he
        flew round and round her,
           touching the water
               with his wings,
         and making silver ripples.

    This was his courtship,
           and it
            lasted all through the summer.

    "It is a ridiculous attachment,"
          twittered the other Swallows;
            "she has no money,
               and far too many relations";
            and indeed the river
                was quite full of Reeds.

    Then,
           when the autumn came
             they all flew away.

    After they had gone
         he felt lonely,
           and began
              to tire of his lady-love.

    "She has no conversation,"
          he said,
               "and I am afraid
                 that she is a coquette,
             for she
                is always flirting
                       with the wind."

    And certainly,
           whenever the wind blew,
         the Reed
              made the most graceful curtseys.

    "I admit
         that she is domestic,"
            he continued,
               "but I love travelling,
             and my wife,
               consequently,
             should love travelling also."

    "Will you
          come away with me?"

    he said finally to her;
        but the Reed
            shook her head,
           she was so
              attached to her home.

    "You have been trifling
           with me," he cried.

    "I am
           off to the Pyramids.

    Good-bye!"

    and he flew away.

    All day long he flew,
           and at night-time
             he arrived at the city.

    "Where shall I put up?"

    he said;
         "I hope the town
            has made preparations."

    Then he saw
           the statue
               on the tall column.

    "I will put up there,"
          he cried;
            "it is a fine position,
               with plenty of fresh air."