And looking I could see That scarcely any dancer here could free His eyes from off the mirrors, but would gaze Upon himself or others, till a craze Shone in his eyes thus to anticipate The hand that took each dancer soon or late. Some analyzed themselves, some only glanced, Some stared and paled and then more madly danced. One dancer only never looked at all. He seemed soul captured by the carnival. There were so many dancers there he loved, He was so greatly by the music moved, He had no time to study his own face There in the mirrors as from place to place He quickly danced. Until I saw at last This dancer by the whirling dancers cast Face full against a mirrored panel where Before he could look at himself or stare He plunged through to the other side--and quick, As water closes when you lift the stick, The mirrored panel swung in place and left No trace of him, as 'twere a magic trick. But all his partners thus so soon bereft Went dancing to the music as before. But I saw faces in that mirrored door Anatomizing their forced smiles and watching Their faces over shoulders, even matching Their terror with each other's to repress A growing fear in seeing it was less Than some one else's, or to ease despair By looking in a face who did not care, While watching for the hand that through some door Caught a poor dancer from the dancing floor With every time-beat of the orchestra. What is this room of mirrors? Who can say? THE LETTER