SHE took the wood thro' which she sung, <br /> But in the lake near which she wended, <br />An image met, and swayed and swung, <br /> And three times with her image blended. <br /> <br />The vision from that mirror fled, <br /> But, ah! I found when day had vanished, <br />It only to a glass had sped, <br /> From which it never can be banished.<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-two-mirrors-2/
