The Mirror

POET, why wilt thou wander far afield?Turn again home! There, also, Nature sings,And to thy heart, her magic-mirror, bringsAll images of life: thence will she yieldEvery emotion in Man's breast concealed:Love, hate, ambition,—hope, that heavenward wings,—The peasant's toil, the care that waits on kings,—All, in thy heart's clear crystal, full revealed.

Hast thou forgotten? One there was who turningHis poet-vision inward, through the years,Found Falstaff's wit, and Prospero's high yearning,Shared Hamlet's doubt, the madness that was Lear's,Saw Wolsey's pride, and Romeo's passion, burning,—Knew Desdemona's truth, and felt her tears!