I chanced upon a looking glass of gold.
And to my surprise it was frozen cold.
I shuddered, but gazed into it fearless.
To descry an old women not tearless.
“This is not me! Who can this be?” Said I.
“Pray tell the truth, old hag, you dare not lie.”
She looked into my eyes, and I did hers.
“Gentle words, maiden, afore it occurs.”
“What is this you speak of, you hoary hag?
Come now, haste! You contemptible old bag.”
With a flutter of the eye, ‘twas her own
Image gazing back. “Now, girl you’ll atone!
I have taken your beauty forever!
Come now, hag, with haste! Say something clever!”
Clarification-
Just a quick sonnet that I intend on revising sometime. The ending comes about quite hastily, so the meaning is bound to be confused. Most basically, the girl switches sides with the aged version of herself, and is forced to endure the ridicule she decried earlier. Which, when you really look at it, she was insulting herself all along, so there's really no difference.
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