The Magic Mirrors

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…