Disclaimer----I don't own the poem or Lord of the Rings. The poem is by W.B Yeats. I got the poem from a book called Shattered Mirror, which is really cool and has vampires and stuff.
Anyway, I just thought it would go with something lotr-ish. I changed a few words......


The Two Trees

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.
Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile.


Celeborn looks for his wife. Once again, Galadriel checks on the world around her. Her face is troubled, and he knows she sees nothing good. The war doesn't only affect those who fight in it.

Lift up before us when they pass,
Or gaze only a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.


When she pulls away from the trance, he comforts her the best he can. After all, during a war, how can images be friendly and beautiful? She sighs and looks at him. They both worry what will happen to Middle Earth. They might not be dwelling on it for much longer, but is it so wrong to worry about a place that has been your home for so long?

For ill things turn to barrenness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when Valar slept in times of old.


Celebration and rejoice. Victory is theirs. Bonds are made, and some are broken. It will be hard to forget what happened here. Maybe no one can forget war, but peace may be remembered. There is a small sadness. Loved ones will be lost to destiny and the love of another. No one can hate love, but that doesn't mean it's painless. Guess it's true; you always hurt the one you love.

There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings; alas!

Soon they are to depart this land. Their time here is almost through. It is time to move on. Galadriel is once again looking into her mirror. What she sees both makes her smile and tear. The family she sees is beautiful but small.
Celeborn takes her hand. It is time to go. They have along journey ahead of them. They will some behind, but they are going to those they haven't seen in a long time.

Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.