is there any more beautiful place to repose on a summer's say d d than under the lowering branches of an oak, with green light filtering through a rippling curtain of leaves? no, I say, there is not! not when magpies' carolling dazzles the very air around, like fragmenting joy, a delighting sound, and wind whispers throig u u h leaves of trees like a lover's f g gentle caress its tender kiss will dismiss dist