A broad and beautiful tree spread its branches over the green pasture,—a brook ran murmuring at its feet,—the sun kissed its leaves, and dewy diamonds blazed with color, the quiet shadows fell, with interlacing sunbeams sifting through dark branches. The tree waved its welcome to the summer breeze that fanned fragrance from the clover fields near by, where bees hummed and gathered sweets for winter's over-tiding.
Love careth for His own, and here, in wondrous ways, provided a shelter for His love-directed birds, giving them homes in nests that swung in the cool retreats of bough and branch.
This tree, men, for want of better knowing, called an oak.
