HE. I WILL hold up a looking-glass. All day I watched the colours pass From the stones across your eyes, But you will look at them no more, Weary of all that glittering store Your hands have dropped the jewell'ries, So there's nothing left to do But to hold up the glass for you, One arm about your neck, and look Across your shoulder into it, And read once more the tale that's writ In this wonder-working book. Leaning thus I cannot see Your head that's turned away from me, But there in the familiar place— A riddle—nay, a mystery— Your removed, reflected face. So after a long while I fell Into a trance, imagining How some long, low-breathèd spell Had captured in this idle thing Essences of earth and air Which have troubled all our days, Yet escaped us everywhere. Thus I read with languid gaze A tale that's always new to me. I wonder what did Helen see When she took the mirror up. And yielding to the moment's whim, Filled it to the silver rim With beauty like a brimming cup. SHE. I will take out of my hair The crown that has no meaning there, And the last roses from my breast. All the symbols of unrest Have now no meaning unto us. HE. Since the last days of summer died Our peace became continuous, We have hardly looked outside; We did not see the yellow leaves Falling past the window-pane, We did not walk where the wind grieves The black branches wet with rain— For the bare trees beneath the hill Are most disconsolate and ill; But all the dying world without Cannot make us turn about, And I think the flames of Troy Did not trouble Helen's eyes When she looked towards the glass; So we beyond the end of joy Can wait afar and hear it pass Fading out in little sighs; Nay, the dropping of the wood As a half-heard voluntary Makes a music to your mood— A music only for ourselves Very low and solitary, Like the mockery of elves. SHE. Even that is but an error, For the hollow air grows still. HE. Ah! do not heed the wind that dies, And look no more into the mirror, But let the drifting silence fill Your ears and quite close up your eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MARK ANTHONY IN HEAVEN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD: SONG by OLIVER GOLDSMITH THREE KINGS OF ORIENT by JOHN HENRY HOPKINS JR. BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD |