A Hand-Mirror
A HAND-MIRROR.
HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who isit? Is it you?) Outside fair costume—within ashes and filth, No more a flashing eye—no more a sonorous voice or
springy step; Now some slave's eye, voice, hands, step, A drunkard's breath, unwholesome eater's face,
venerealee's flesh, Lungs rotting away piecemeal, stomach sour and can-
kerous, Joints rheumatic, bowels clogged with abomination, Blood circulating dark and poisonous streams, Words babble, hearing and touch callous, No brain, no heart left—no magnetism of sex; Such, from one look in this looking-glass ere you go
hence, Such a result so soon—and from such a beginning!