For he that is beside himself is annihilated and safe;
Yea, he dwells in security for ever.
His form is vanished, he is a mere mirror;
Nothing is seen in him but the reflexion of another.
If you spit at it, you spit at your own face,
And if you hit that mirror, you hit yourself.
If you see an ugly face in it, ’tis your own,
And if you see a Jesus there, you are its mother Mary.
He is neither this nor that—he is void of form;
’Tis your own form which is reflected back to you.”