Root met root in the spongy ground,
Searching each for food:
Each turned aside, and away it wound.
And each got something good.
Sound met sound in the wavy air —
That made a little to-do!
They jostled not long, but were quick and fair;
Each found its path and flew.
Drop dashed on drop, as the rain-shower fell;
They joined and sank below:
In gathered thousands they rose a well,
With a singing overflow.
Wind met wind in a garden green,
They began to push and fret:
A tearing whirlwind arose between:
There love lies bleeding yet.