Through the Museum
I stroll, and see
Goblets fashioned in Arcady,
Spears from the Islands, and robes from Tyre-
Gew-gaws of pomp and of old desire.
On one of the walls
A looking glass
Catches my image as I pass.
Austerely from mirrored eyes, I see
The soul of the past look out at me.
Body And Soul
Lesbia Harford
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Poem topics: desire, soul, glass, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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