The Twins

From a beautiful lake in the mountain Two rivulets came down, With a rustle and flutter like ribbons of blue By delicate breezes blown. O’er beds of golden lustre, In the shadow of rock and tree, They sang the same tune with their silvery tongues And clapped their hands in glee. O’er rocks with mosses mantled They eddied and whirled like a waltzing pair, Till hand in hand with laughter and leap They mingled their misty hair. Over the self-same ledges, Singing the self-same tune, They passed from April to breezy May Toward the fields of June. They whirled and danced and dallied, And through the meadows slid, Till under the same thick grass and flowers Their future course was hid. I saw two beautiful children Of one fair mother born, Like two young clouds of golden hue That smile on the breast of Morn. The same in age and beauty, The same in voice and size— The same bright hair upon their heads, The same blue in their eyes. Singing the same song ever In the self-same silvery tune, They passed from April into May, Toward the fields of June. They whirled and danced and dallied, The beautiful vales amid, Till under the same thick leaves and flowers Their future course was hid.