. In the forest of Arden. that one must escape from them tounderstand how beautiful they then I*m not sure that evendark days and rain have not somethingwhich sunshine and clear skies couldnot give us/^ As usual, Rosalind hadspoken my thought before I had madeit quite clear to myself; I began tofeel the peculiar delight of our comfortin the heart of that great forest whenthe storm was abroad. The monotoneof the rain became rhythmic with someancient, primeval melody, which thewoods sang before their solitude hadbeen invaded by the eager feet of menalways searching for something whichthe
. In the forest of Arden. that one must escape from them tounderstand how beautiful they then I*m not sure that evendark days and rain have not somethingwhich sunshine and clear skies couldnot give us/^ As usual, Rosalind hadspoken my thought before I had madeit quite clear to myself; I began tofeel the peculiar delight of our comfortin the heart of that great forest whenthe storm was abroad. The monotoneof the rain became rhythmic with someancient, primeval melody, which thewoods sang before their solitude hadbeen invaded by the eager feet of menalways searching for something whichthey do not possess. I felt the spellI of that mighty life which includes theHijf^mi tempest and the tumult of winds andwaves among the myriad voices withwhich it speaks its marvellous the meaning would go out of Nature if no storms ever dimmed the 67 ^4l».
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Keywords: ., bookauthormabieham, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1903
