Slowly doth bud, and slowly doth mature The woodland oak, yet doth long time endure. Lashed by the winds, her leaves around she steews, But, the wind passed, her beauty she renews. (Francesco Dall'Ongaro)

Slowly doth bud, and slowly doth mature The woodland oak, yet doth long time endure. Lashed by the winds, her leaves around she steews, But, the wind passed, her beauty she renews.

Francesco Dall'Ongaro

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