Like lover 's sighs it still shall rise To greet thee day by day . ' I sing of blooming flowers Made sweet by sun and rain ; Of all the bliss of love 's first kiss , And parting 's cruel pain . ` Of the sad captive 's longing Within his prison wall , Of hearts that sigh when none are nigh To answer to their call . ` My song begs for your pity , And gifts from out your store , And as I play my gentle lay I linger near your door . ` And if you hear my singing Within your palace , sire , Oh ! give , I pray , this happy day , To me my heart 's desire . ' No sooner had the heathen king heard this touching song sung by such a lovely voice , than he had the singer brought before him . ` Welcome , O lute player , ' said he . ` Where do you come from ? ' ` My country , sire , is far away across many seas . For years I have been wandering about the world and gaining my living by my music . ' ` Stay here then a few days , and when you wish to leave I will give you what you ask for in your song -- your heart 's desire . ' So the lute player stayed on in the palace and sang and played almost all day long to the king , who could never tire of listening and almost forgot to eat or drink or to torment people . He cared for nothing but the music , and nodded his head as he declared , ` That 's something like playing and singing . It makes me feel as if some gentle hand had lifted every care and sorrow from me . ' After three days the lute player came to take leave of the king . ` Well , ' said the king , ` what do you desire as your reward ? ' ` Sire , give me one of your prisoners . You have so many in your prison , and I should be glad of a companion on my journeys . When I hear his happy voice as I travel along I shall think of you and thank you . '
` Come XXXXX then , ' said the king , ` choose whom you will . '
After Like To about along for from in on than