At one time a guitar and an Æolian harp had been hung among the old oak's boughs by merry travelling apprentices; now they hung there again, and the wind played sweetly with their strings.
And now the dream changed. A new and stronger current of life flowed through him, down to his lowest roots, up to his highest twigs, even to the very leaves. The tree felt in his roots that a warm life stirred in the earth, and that he was growing taller and taller; his trunk shot up more and more, his crown grew fuller; and still he soared and spread. He felt that his power grew, too, and he longed to advance higher and higher to the warm, bright sun.
Already he towered above the clouds, which drifted below him, now like a troop of dark-plumaged birds of passage, now like flocks of large, white swans. The stars became visible by daylight, so large and bright, each one sparkling like a mild, clear eye.
It was a blessed moment!

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