The Mirror.
W
ITHIN
the glass
Our shadows pass,
Like phantoms one by one,
But in the glass
Our lips may kiss
No image save their own.
__
Albert Bigelow Paine.
Rhymes by Two Friends
Albert Bigelow Paine & William Allen White
(Fort Scott: M. L. Izor and Son. 1893)
Page 61
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