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Title: Moments Of Vision
Author: Thomas Hardy [ More Titles by Hardy]
That mirror Which makes of men a transparency, Who holds that mirror And bids us such a breast-bare spectacle see Of you and me? That mirror Whose magic penetrates like a dart, Who lifts that mirror And throws our mind back on us, and our heart, Until we start? That mirror Works well in these night hours of ache; Why in that mirror Are tincts we never see ourselves once take When the world is awake? That mirror Can test each mortal when unaware; Yea, that strange mirror May catch his last thoughts, whole life foul or fair, Glassing it--where?
[The end] Thomas Hardy's poem: Moments Of Vision ________________________________________________
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