The Mirror, Dennis Miller Bunker (1890)

Mirror

Mirror that I hold you are very cold
Giving me chills as to what you may tell
Always revealing the truth have been told
Of ghastly rumors your power to quell

My eyes are closed, holding you a full length
That you may see greater amounts of me
To open my eyes seeking inner strength
Afraid of the truth of what I’m to see

What if those rumors are really true
Apt to disappear quickly from all sight
No opportunity again to view
An old dejected spinster filled with fright

External features to be our measure
At the expense of internal treasure