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“I Look into my Glass”
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I LOOK into my glass, |
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And view my wasting skin, |
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And say, “Would God it came to pass |
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My heart had shrunk as thin!” |
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For then, I, undistrest |
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By hearts grown cold to me, |
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Could lonely wait my endless rest |
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With equanimity. |
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But Time, to make me grieve, |
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Part steals, lets part abide; |
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And shakes this fragile frame at eve |
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With throbbings of noontide.
The End Thomas Hardy 1840-1928
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