Narcissus

I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did - the fool! What was it that he saw that made him so give up his heart for something unattainable. I wouldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did. Perhaps it was the pool he so adored, well, if that be; How then it did deceive him cruelly. Poor, poor, sad boy; if he had but received real love, instead of nothing but a miming mug, I'm sure, that he would not have sought to waste, So valuable a thing as love upon a flimsy face. I couldn't fall in love with my own image like Narcissus did, When what I see when I look at my face are blots, not seen when I stand in the shade, But magnified now I move closer in. But then he had no spots, no wrinkles too. Still, even if mine was so smooth, That I could fool a women's touch with it, I do not think I could, like him, pine after my own image.