High above the city, on a tall white column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was covered in fine gold, with bright sapphire eyes, and a great red ruby on his sword. From far below, he looked splendid and smiled over the city.

When he was alive, the Prince lived in a palace filled with joy. But now, from his high place, he could see all the sadness of the city: hungry children, shivering beggars, and tired mothers. His heart ached for them.

One evening, a little Swallow flew over the city. He was on his way to warm Egypt but stopped to rest for the night. He tucked himself snugly between the Prince’s feet.

Suddenly, a drop of water fell on the Swallow. He looked up and saw the Prince’s eyes filled with tears! The Prince explained his sadness, seeing all the pain he could not help.

The Prince spoke gently, 'Far away, a poor mother cares for her sick child with no fire or food. Will you take her my ruby?' The Swallow hesitated, as it was cold, but agreed to stay one night.

The Swallow plucked the great red ruby from the Prince’s sword. He flew through the dark streets, past sleeping houses, until he found the poor mother’s home. He gently laid the sparkling ruby beside her hand.

The next night, the Prince asked the Swallow to help again. 'High in a cold garret lives a young writer who is hungry and freezing. Will you take him one of my eyes, a bright sapphire?'

So the Swallow carefully plucked out the sapphire and flew to the writer’s cold room. He placed the shimmering jewel beside the man’s ink bottle. The young writer looked up, and hope returned to his face.

On the third night, the Prince whispered, 'In the square, a little match-girl has dropped her matches. Her father will be angry. Give her my other eye.' 'But then you will be blind!' said the Swallow. 'Still, give it to her,' said the Prince.

So the Swallow took the second sapphire and placed it in the little match-girl’s hand. Her face shone with joy! She gathered her dropped matches and ran home, laughing happily.

After that, the Swallow could not leave the Prince. 'You are blind,' he said softly. 'I will stay with you forever.' And together, they looked out over the sleeping, now brighter city.

Then the Prince said, 'There are still poor people below. Though I have no jewels left, my body is covered with fine gold. Take it, leaf by leaf, and give it to the hungry.'

One by one, the Swallow picked off the golden leaves, carrying them through the icy air to the weaver, the baker's children, and the beggars. The Prince shone less and less, but the city’s faces grew brighter.

Winter came, and the Swallow grew colder and weaker. He could hardly fly. 'Goodbye, dear Prince,' he whispered, 'I am going to the House of Death.' He kissed the Prince and fell dead at his feet. At that moment, the Prince’s lead heart broke in two.

The next morning, the Mayor ordered the shabby statue pulled down and melted. But the Prince’s lead heart would not melt. It was thrown on a dust-heap with the dead bird. God then told His angels to bring Him the two most precious things: the broken heart and the little Swallow, to live forever in His Paradise.