To the Siamese Twins
Mysterious tie by the Hand above,
Which nothing below must part!
Thou visible image of faithful love,
Firm union of heart and heart;
The mind to her utmost bound may run,
And summon her light in vain
To scan the twain that must still be one ;
The one that will still be twain!
The beat of this bosom forbears to reach
Where the other distinetly goes;
Yet, the stream that empurples the veins of each
Through the breast of his brother flows!
One grief must be felt by this two-fold mark,
As the points of a double dart;
And the joy lit up by a single spark
Is sunshine in either heart.
O wonder to baffle poor human skill
In clay of the human mould!
But a greater mystery all must still,
In the union of souls, behold.
Ye are living harps, by your silken strings
In a heavenly concord bound;
And who o'er one but a finger flings
Awakens you both to sound.
But, what do you do when your slumbers come,
When ye've sweetly sunken to rest?
Do your spirits, side by side, fly home,
Still linked, to your mother's breast?
Did ye ever dream that your bond was broke;
That ye were asunder thrown?
And how did ye feel at the severing stroke,
When each was forever alone?
No—ye would not think of yourselves apart,
Even in fancy's wildest mood,
For each would seem but a broken heart,
And the world but a solitude!
Dear youths, may your lives be a flowery way,
And watched by your Maker's eye!
May both, at the close, one call obey
To shine as twin stars on high!
Mysterious tie by the Hand above,
Which nothing below must part!
Thou visible image of faithful love,
Firm union of heart and heart;
The mind to her utmost bound may run,
And summon her light in vain
To scan the twain that must still be one ;
The one that will still be twain!
The beat of this bosom forbears to reach
Where the other distinetly goes;
Yet, the stream that empurples the veins of each
Through the breast of his brother flows!
One grief must be felt by this two-fold mark,
As the points of a double dart;
And the joy lit up by a single spark
Is sunshine in either heart.
O wonder to baffle poor human skill
In clay of the human mould!
But a greater mystery all must still,
In the union of souls, behold.
Ye are living harps, by your silken strings
In a heavenly concord bound;
And who o'er one but a finger flings
Awakens you both to sound.
But, what do you do when your slumbers come,
When ye've sweetly sunken to rest?
Do your spirits, side by side, fly home,
Still linked, to your mother's breast?
Did ye ever dream that your bond was broke;
That ye were asunder thrown?
And how did ye feel at the severing stroke,
When each was forever alone?
No—ye would not think of yourselves apart,
Even in fancy's wildest mood,
For each would seem but a broken heart,
And the world but a solitude!
Dear youths, may your lives be a flowery way,
And watched by your Maker's eye!
May both, at the close, one call obey
To shine as twin stars on high!
Which nothing below must part!
Thou visible image of faithful love,
Firm union of heart and heart;
The mind to her utmost bound may run,
And summon her light in vain
To scan the twain that must still be one ;
The one that will still be twain!
The beat of this bosom forbears to reach
Where the other distinetly goes;
Yet, the stream that empurples the veins of each
Through the breast of his brother flows!
One grief must be felt by this two-fold mark,
As the points of a double dart;
And the joy lit up by a single spark
Is sunshine in either heart.
O wonder to baffle poor human skill
In clay of the human mould!
But a greater mystery all must still,
In the union of souls, behold.
Ye are living harps, by your silken strings
In a heavenly concord bound;
And who o'er one but a finger flings
Awakens you both to sound.
But, what do you do when your slumbers come,
When ye've sweetly sunken to rest?
Do your spirits, side by side, fly home,
Still linked, to your mother's breast?
Did ye ever dream that your bond was broke;
That ye were asunder thrown?
And how did ye feel at the severing stroke,
When each was forever alone?
No—ye would not think of yourselves apart,
Even in fancy's wildest mood,
For each would seem but a broken heart,
And the world but a solitude!
Dear youths, may your lives be a flowery way,
And watched by your Maker's eye!
May both, at the close, one call obey
To shine as twin stars on high!
Mysterious tie by the Hand above,
Which nothing below must part!
Thou visible image of faithful love,
Firm union of heart and heart;
The mind to her utmost bound may run,
And summon her light in vain
To scan the twain that must still be one ;
The one that will still be twain!
The beat of this bosom forbears to reach
Where the other distinetly goes;
Yet, the stream that empurples the veins of each
Through the breast of his brother flows!
One grief must be felt by this two-fold mark,
As the points of a double dart;
And the joy lit up by a single spark
Is sunshine in either heart.
O wonder to baffle poor human skill
In clay of the human mould!
But a greater mystery all must still,
In the union of souls, behold.
Ye are living harps, by your silken strings
In a heavenly concord bound;
And who o'er one but a finger flings
Awakens you both to sound.
But, what do you do when your slumbers come,
When ye've sweetly sunken to rest?
Do your spirits, side by side, fly home,
Still linked, to your mother's breast?
Did ye ever dream that your bond was broke;
That ye were asunder thrown?
And how did ye feel at the severing stroke,
When each was forever alone?
No—ye would not think of yourselves apart,
Even in fancy's wildest mood,
For each would seem but a broken heart,
And the world but a solitude!
Dear youths, may your lives be a flowery way,
And watched by your Maker's eye!
May both, at the close, one call obey
To shine as twin stars on high!
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