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Dante Gabriel Rossetti - The Mirror
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SHE knew it not:—most perfect pain 
            To learn: this too she knew not. Strife 
                For me, calm hers, as from the first. 
                `Twas but another bubble burst 
            Upon the curdling draught of life,— 
       My silent patience mine again. 
       As who, of forms that crowd unknown 
            Within a distant mirror`s shade, 
                Deems such an one himself, and makes 
            Some sign; but when the image shakes 
            No whit, he finds his thought betray`d, 
       And must seek elsewhere for his own.
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