It

It fills my spoon,

And comes calling at noon;

It waters my drink,

And thoughts my think;

It joys my happiness,

And glooms my sadness;

It whispers in the trees,

It sings in songs,

It flames in fire,

And freezes the ice.

What is it?

Look on and see it twice, in the winding blow,

Why do you want to know?

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