Two twins we are, and, let it not surpriseAlike in every feature, shape and size
We're square, or round, of brass or iron made,
Sometimes of wood, yet useful found in trade;
But , to conclure, for all our daily pains,
We by the neck are often hung in chains.
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes out first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.