Through a glass darkly
How many times, within the glass,
I see a figure pause and pass;
As like myself as it can be,
And yet it scarcely looks at me.
But one day, one, before the glass
I paused, and did not dare to pass;
For there, with some foreknowledge lit,
A face looked out - I looked at it.
The sad eyes pierced me through and through,
From the set lips a challenge flew;
As it had passed through searching flame,
A voice imperious, called my name.
Before some clear, inshining light,
My earthly atoms fled from sight;
As that which evermore would be,
My soul itself confronted me.
I looked at it, ashamed, dismayed;
It wore a crown - i was afraid;
As one who might, it made demands
Of blood and brain, of heart and hands.
It questioned me, it whispered clear
Great secrets that i ought to hear;
It bade me keep, in seldom trust,
its royal purple from the dust.
The tryst was ended - I could see
A veil drop dowm 'twix it and me;
I had no questions more to ask
Of Life or Death - I knew my task.
Ellen M.H Gates
