I Look Into My Glass

    I look into my glass,
      And view my wasting skin,
    And say, “Would God it came to pass
      My heart had shrunk as thin!”

    For then, I, undistrest
      By hearts grown cold to me,
    Could lonely wait my endless rest
      With equanimity.

    But Time, to make me grieve,
      Part steals, lets part abide;
    And shakes this fragile frame at eve
      With throbbings of noontide.