Beside Beautiful Waters 21 



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on the grass, and rest. Ah, such rest, with 

 my beloved near! 



The rush and roar and stupid din of the 

 city I remember only as a fevered dream. I 

 am akin to all life. The earth beneath is soft 

 and tender as the touch of a mother, and 

 these oaks that tower above me are my broth- 

 ers. They have been tried as I have been 

 tried. Their limbs have wrestled with the 

 furies that rode on the wings of storms and 

 have conquered. Their fibre is strong be- 

 cause they have suffered. The last storm 

 twisted off the top of a mulberry and hurled 

 it to the ground. But the oaks laughed for 

 sheer joy in their strength when the wind 

 was fiercest. I love them because they are 

 strong. I hear them at night softly sighing 

 when the wind is gentle. They are telling 

 the others about them to be not afraid, for 

 they have looked far out to sea and no storm 

 is near. 



Through the shadows of the trees the 

 waters gleam. 



