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1880–1929

THE GLASS

John Freeman

Your face has lost The clearness it once wore, And your brow smooth and white Its look of light;

Your eyes that were So careless, are how deep with care! O, what has done This cruelty to you?

Is it only Time makes strange Your look with change, Or something more Than the worst pang Time ever bore?—

Regret, regret! So bitter that it changes Bright youth to madness, Poisoning mere sadness...

O, vain glass that shows Less than the bitterness the heart knows.

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THE GLASS · John Freeman · Poetry Cove