It is yourself you seek br In a long rage, br Scanning through light and darkness br Mirrors, the page, br br Where should reflected be br Those eyes and that thick hair, br That passionate look, that laughter. br You should appear br br Within the book, or doubled, br Freed, in the silvered glass; br Into all other bodies br Yourself should pass. br br The glass does not dissolve; br Like walls the mirrors stand; br The printed page gives back br Words by another hand. br br And your infatuate eye br Meets not itself below; br Strangers lie in your arms br As I lie now.