““Just as the sheet nearest to hand takes from a master The true hasty stroke, just so The mirror often takes into itself The sole, the divine laugh of a girl, As she experiences the morning, alone - Or in the radiance of attendant candlelight. And later, when this visage actually breathes, Gives back only a reflection. What eyes have not upon occasion gazed Into the long-smoking embers that fade in the fire: Life-glimpses, lost forever?””
