A little inn, which was famous for its beer, stood on the meadow space, bounded by these two streams; and the picnic party halted before its door.
While the white foamy glasses were clinked and tossed, Mercy ran down the narrow strip of land at the end of which the streams met.

A little thicket of willows grew there.

Standing on the very edge of the shore, Mercy broke off a willow wand, and dipped it to right in the meadow stream, to the left in the stream from the gorge.

Then she brought it back wet and dripping.
"It has drank of two waters," she cried, holding it up.

"Oh, you ought to see how wonderful it is to watch their coming together at that point! For a little while you can trace the mountain water by itself in the other: then it is all lost, and they pour on together." This picture, also, she set in a frame of verse one day, and gave it to Stephen.
On a green point of sunny land, Hemmed in by mountains stern and high, I stood alone as dreamers stand, And watched two streams that hurried by.
One ran to east, and one to south; They leaped and sparkled in the sun; They foamed like racers at the mouth, And laughed as if the race were won.
Just on the point of sunny land A low bush stood, like umpire fair, Waving green banners in its hand, As if the victory to declare.
Ah, victory won, but not by race! Ah, victory by a sweeter name! To blend for ever in embrace, Unconscious, swift, the two streams came.
One instant, separate, side by side The shining currents seemed to pour; Then swept in one tumultuous tide, Swifter and stronger than before.
O stream to south! O stream to east! Which bears the other, who shall see?
Which one is most, which one is least, In this surrendering victory?
To that green point of sunny land, Hemmed in by mountains stern and high, I called my love, and, hand in hand, We watched the streams that hurried by..