I sat a long time, unwilling to go; but my unfinished story urged me on.

I must act and wander.

With the sun well risen, I rose, and put my arms as far as they would reach around the beech-tree, and kissed it, and said good-bye.

A trembling went through the leaves; a few of the last drops of the night's rain fell from off them at my feet; and as I walked slowly away, I seemed to hear in a whisper once more the words: "I may love him, I may love him; for he is a man, and I am only a beech-tree.".