It is not I they love Although they think they love me, It is that picture of themselves they see As though a mirror hung above me. I can reflect them with a grace That lets them talk and makes them shine, And if they tell their troubles to me I do not bother them with mine. It is not I they love, there is no I Except for you who have me for your own, And for the rest my heart may hide or seem A thing as light as snow, as still as stone. |