(23 September 1861 – 25 August 1907 / )

The Other Side Of A Mirror

I sat before my glass one day,
And conjured up a vision bare,
Unlike the aspects glad and gay,
That erst were found reflected there -
The vision of a woman, wild
With more than womanly despair.
Her hair stood back on either side
A face bereft of loveliness.
It had no envy now to hide
What once no man on earth could guess.
It formed the thorny aureole
Of hard, unsanctified distress.

Her lips were open - not a sound
Came though the parted lines of red,
Whate'er it was, the hideous wound
In silence and secret bled.
No sigh relieved her speechless woe,
She had no voice to speak her dread.

And in her lurid eyes there shone
The dying flame of life's desire,
Made mad because its hope was gone,
And kindled at the leaping fire
Of jealousy and fierce revenge,
And strength that could not change nor tire.

Shade of a shadow in the glass,
O set the crystal surface free!
Pass - as the fairer visions pass -
Nor ever more return, to be
The ghost of a distracted hour,
That heard me whisper: - 'I am she!'

User Rating: 3,7 / 5 ( 24 votes ) 16

Comments (16)

What a candid and beautiful portrayal of self! A lovely poem
An excellent poem beautifully written
This is a marvelous poem as is usual for Coleridge. I don't understand why people give so many classic poems a low rating, . and in general here I find that for me the ratings here often do not reflect the quality of the poems.
Brilliantly composed. Thanks for sharing.
i was entranced by this poem's beauty
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