Nighty on the same snowy pillow, were laid their beautiful heads, The same morning beam kiss'd away their lingering slumbers, The first object that met their waking eye, was the bright, sisterly smile. One impulse moved both hearts, as kneeling by their little bed, Breathed forth from ruby lips, "Our Father, who art in Heaven!" Simple homage, meekly blending in a blessed stream of incense. Forth went they among the wild flowers, making friendship with the dragon-fly, With the ant in her circling citadel, with the spider at her silk-loom, Talking to the babbling brook, speaking kindly to the uncouth terrapin, And frog, who to them seem'd dancing joyously in watery halls. Like the chirping of the wood-robin murmured their tuneful voices, Or rang out in merry laughter, gladdening the ear of the Mother, Who when she heard it afar off, laughed also, not knowing wherefore. Thus, in companionship with Nature, dwelt they, growing each day more happy, Loving all things that she cherish'd, and loved by her in return. Yet not idly pass'd their childhood, in New England's creed that were heresy, Promptly, as strength permitted, followed they examples of industry, Lovingly assisting the Mother wherever her work might be. Surprising was it to see what their small hands could accomplish, Without trespassing on the joy of childhood, that precious birthright of life. Diligently wrought they in summer, at the dame's school with plodding needle, Docile at their lessons in winter, stood they before the Master: Yet learning most from Home and Mother, those schools for the heart, Befitting best that sex, whose sphere of action is in the heart. Attentive were they to the Parents' rule, and to the open book of Nature, Teachers, whose faithful pupils shall be wise towards God. * * * * * Different were the two daughters, though to the same discipline subjected. Grave was the elder born and thoughtful, even beyond her years, Night upon her tresses, but the star of morning in her heart. Exceeding fair was the younger, and witty, and full of grace, Winning with her sunny ringlets, the notice of all beholders. Different also were their temperaments, one loving like the Violet Shaded turf, where the light falls subdued through sheltering branches, The other, as the Tulip, exulting in the lustrous noontide, And the prerogatives of beauty, to see, and to be seen. Sweet was it to behold them, when the sun grew low in summer, Riding gracefully through the green-wood, each on her ambling palfrey, One, white as milk, and the other like shining ebony, For so in fanciful love had the Mother selected for her darlings. Sweet was it to mark them, side by side, in careless beauty, Looking earnestly in each others' faces, thought playfully touching thought. * * * * *