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Jonathan Swift - On A Shadow In A Glass
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By something form`d, I nothing am,
Yet everything that you can name;
In no place have I ever been,
Yet everywhere I may be seen;
In all things false, yet always true,
I`m still the same—but ever new.
Lifeless, life`s perfect form I wear,
Can show a nose, eye, tongue, or ear,
Yet neither smell, see, taste, or hear.
All shapes and features I can boast,
No flesh, no bones, no blood—no ghost:
All colours, without paint, put on,
And change like the cameleon.
Swiftly I come, and enter there,
Where not a chink lets in the air;
Like thought, I`m in a moment gone,
Nor can I ever be alone:
All things on earth I imitate
Faster than nature can create;
Sometimes imperial robes I wear,
Anon in beggar`s rags appear;
A giant now, and straight an elf,
I`m every one, but ne`er myself;
Ne`er sad I mourn, ne`er glad rejoice,
I move my lips, but want a voice;
I ne`er was born, nor e`er can die,
Then, pr`ythee, tell me what am I?


Most things by me do rise and fall,
And, as I please, they`re great and small;
Invading foes without resistance,
With ease I make to keep their distance:
Again, as I`m disposed, the foe
Will come, though not a foot they go.
Both mountains, woods, and hills, and rocks
And gamesome goats, and fleecy flocks,
And lowing herds, and piping swains,
Come dancing to me o`er the plains.
The greatest whale that swims the sea
Does instantly my power obey.
In vain from me the sailor flies,
The quickest ship I can surprise,
And turn it as I have a mind,
And move it against tide and wind.
Nay, bring me here the tallest man,
I`ll squeeze him to a little span;
Or bring a tender child, and pliant,
You`ll see me stretch him to a giant:
Nor shall they in the least complain,
Because my magic gives no pain.
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