Two brothers clomb; and turning face from face
Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still
Or feed, each planted on that lofty place
A chosen tree. Then eager to fulfil
Their courses, like two new-born rivers they
In opposite directions urged their way
Down from the far-seen mount. No blast might kill
Or blight the fond memorial. The trees grew,
And now entwine their arms; but ne’er again
Embraced those brothers upon earth’s wide plain,