The Magic Mirrors
Reading edition
In the dim mirrors of imagination, I watch the silent dancing of my soul . . . I watch her as she dances with my dreams . . . See how she takes innumerable disguises, And hides her beauty behind many masks, And how, sometimes, she seems to laugh and sing, . . . And weep . . . and call upon the unknown Gods . . . But not one mirror has betrayed her voice, Or shown to me the secret of her face . . . O silent dance of sorrow and delight, My heart grown tired with watching, turns away, To make perhaps a little passionate song Out of the shadows of immortal things . . .