Everyone Admired the Mirror

Everyone admired the mirror.

It hung where every caller came,
Above the hall in pride;
Each pilgrim praised its polished face
Before he stepped inside.
A merchant stroked his prosperous beard,
Then smiled with deep delight;
A poet found immortal fame
Before a page could write.
A preacher bowed with solemn grace,
Then lingered for another view;
Each swore the glass possessed rare truth,
As every noble spirit knew.

Everyone admired the mirror.

The seasons turned, the fashions fled,
Fresh ribbons crowned each brow;
The mirror watched with equal care,
As each renewed a vow.
Friends traded praise like minted coins,
Each eager for return;
The vain grew wise through borrowed words,
Though wisdom failed to learn.
A lover pledged undying faith,
Provided praise endured;
Conscience found a smaller chair,
While vanity felt cured.
The mirror offered neither speech
Nor counsel rich or dear;
Each visitor supplied enough.

Everyone admired the mirror.

At last, the shining face grew dim.
Some hurried past in haste.
One blamed years of faithful use;
Another blamed poor taste.
Each searched every corner well,
For fault had slipped away.
Faces carried home the same
They proudly brought that day.
The mirror kept its aged trade;
It showed what came to see.
The change each pilgrim longed to find
Belonged elsewhere than thee.

It never forged a single lie,
Nor sweetened one conceit.
It offered every passerby
The same unyielding seat.
The merchant frowned. The poet sighed.
The preacher turned aside.
Each sought another looking glass
More generous to pride.

Everyone admired the mirror.