The Poetical Works of George MacDonald
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Look on the magic mirror; A glory thou wilt spy;
Be with thine heart a sharer, But go not thou too nigh; Else thou wilt rue thine error, With a tear-filled, sleepless eye.
The youth looked on the mirror, And he went not too nigh; And yet he rued his error, With a tear-filled, sleepless eye; For he could not be a sharer In what he there did spy.
He went to the magician Upon the morrow morn. "Mighty," was his petition, "Look not on me in scorn; But one last gaze elision, Lest I should die forlorn!"
He saw her in her glory, Floating upon the main. Ah me! the same sad story! The darkness and the rain! If I live till I am hoary, I shall never laugh again.
She held the youth enchanted, Till his trembling lips were pale, And his full heart heaved and panted To utter all its tale: Forward he rushed, undaunted-- And the shattered mirror fell.
[He rises and leaves the room. LILIA weeping.]