II.

The tree-roots met in the spongy ground, Looking where water lay; Because they met, they twined around, Embraced, and went their way.

Drop dashed on drop, as the rain-shower fell, Yet they strove not, but joined together; And they rose from the earth a bright clear well, Singing in sunny weather.

Sound met sound in the wavy air; They kissed as sisters true; Yet, jostling not on their journey fair, Each on its own path flew.

Wind met wind in a garden green; Each for its own way pled; And a trampling whirlwind danced between, Till the flower of Love lay dead.