The Two Trees

BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart, 

The holy tree is growing there; 
From joy the holy branches start, 
And all the trembling flowers they bear. 

The changing colours of its fruit 
Have dowered the stars with merry light; 
The surety of its hidden root 
Has planted quiet in the night; 
The shaking of its leafy head 
Has given the waves their melody, 
And made my lips and music wed, 
Murmuring a wizard song for thee. 
There the Loves a circle go, 
The flaming circle of our days, 
Gyring, spiring to and fro 
In those great ignorant leafy ways; 
Remembering all that shaken hair 
And how the wingèd sandals dart, 
Thine eyes grow full of tender care: 
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart. 

Poem by  W.B. Yeats

Art by Tomasz Alen Kopera