I Look into My Glass
Thomas Hardy
1840 to 1928
Track 1
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I look into my glass,
And view wasting skin,
And say, "Would God it came pass
My heart had shrunk as thin!"
For then, I, undistrest
By hearts grown cold me,
Could lonely wait my endless rest
equanimity.
But Time, to make me grieve,
steals, lets part abide;
And shakes this fragile at eve
With throbbings of noontide.