The paintings in the art gallery
Remain the same
And continue to reflect
The eternal beauty
As inspiring today
As when I saw them as a child.

The ways of mirrors are not as true:
In the past a lover brushed her hair
Into the soft gaze of an adoring mirror
That seemed to love her
As much as I did,
But now the lover is gone
And only loneliness is reflected
In the same cold and unsympathetic mirror.

Uriah Hamilton

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/adoring-mirror/