BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, <br />The holy tree is growing there; <br />From joy the holy branches start, <br />And all the trembling flowers they bear. <br />The changing colours of its fruit <br />Have dowered the stars with metry light; <br />The surety of its hidden root <br />Has planted quiet in the night; <br />The shaking of its leafy head <br />Has given the waves their melody, <br />And made my lips and music wed, <br />Murmuring a wizard song for thee. <br />There the Joves a circle go, <br />The flaming circle of our days, <br />Gyring, spiring to and fro <br />In those great ignorant leafy ways; <br />Remembering all that shaken hair <br />And how the winged sandals dart, <br />Thine eyes grow full of tender care: <br />Beloved, gaze in thine own heart. <br />Gaze no more in the bitter glass <br />The demons, with their subtle guile. <br />Lift up before us when they pass, <br />Or only gaze a little while; <br />For there a fatal image grows <br />That the stormy night receives, <br />Roots half hidden under snows, <br />Broken boughs and blackened leaves. <br />For ill things turn to barrenness <br />In the dim glass the demons hold, <br />The glass of outer weariness, <br />Made when God slept in times of old. <br />There, through the broken branches, go <br />The ravens of unresting thought; <br />Flying, crying, to and fro, <br />Cruel claw and hungry throat, <br />Or else they stand and sniff the wind, <br />And shake their ragged wings; alas! <br />Thy tender eyes grow all unkind: <br />Gaze no more in the bitter glass.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-two-trees/
