HOPE holds to Christ the mind's own mirror out To take His lovely likeness more and more. It will not well, so she would bring about An ever brighter burnish than before And turns to wash it from her welling eyes And breathes the blots off all with sighs on sighs. Her glass is blest but she as good as blind Holds till hand aches and wonders what is there; Her glass drinks light, she darkles down behind, All of her glorious gainings unaware. . . . . . . . . I told you that she turned her mirror dim Betweenwhiles, but she sees herself not Him. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE STORMING OF STONY POINT [JULY 16, 1779] by ARTHUR GUITERMAN HESPERUS THE BRINGER by SAPPHO SATIRE: 5 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS I DID NOT ASK OF LIFE by ALICE BAKER |