How many times, within the glass,
I see a figure pause and pass;
As like myself as it can be,
And yet it scarcely looks at me.
But one day, one, before the glass
I paused, and did not dare to pass;
For there, with some foreknowledge lit,
A face looked out - I looked at it.
The sad eyes pierced me through and through,
From the set lips a challenge flew;
As it
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