And how the winged sandals dart,

Or only gaze a little while;

Roots half hidden under snows,

The shaking of its leafy head

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.

BELOVED, gaze in thine own heart,

Have dowered the stars with metry lig九*九*藏*書ht;

In the dim glass the demons hold,

The surety of its hidden root

Thine eyes grow full of tender care:

There, through the broken branches, go

Made when God slept in times of old.

Has given the waves their melody,

Theｒｅad.９9csw•cｏm glass of outer weariness,

Has planted quiet in the night;

And shake their ragged wings; alas!

And all the trembling flowers they bear.

That the stormy night receives,

Murmuring a wizard song for thee.

The holy tree is gｒead•99cｓw.coｍrowing there;

Broken boughs and blackened leaves.

There the Joves a circle go,

The ravens of unresting thought;

Cruel claw and hungry throat,

From joy the holy branches start,

The changing colours of its fruit

In those great iread.99csw.comgnorant leafy ways;

Gyring, spiring to and fro

The demons, with their subtle guile.

Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:

For there a fatal image grows

Gaze no more in the bitter glass

The flaming circle of https://read.99csw.comour days,

Flying, crying, to and fro,

Or else they stand and sniff the wind,

And made my lips and music wed,

Lift up before us when they pass,

For ill things turn to barrenness

Gaze no more in the bitter glass.

Remembering all that shaken hair