In the Room by James Thomson.

Part 6 of 13.

The mirror sneer

’d with scornful spite,
(That ancient crack which spoil’d her looks
Had marr’d her temper), Write and write!
And read those stupid, worn-out books!
That’s all he does,—read, write, and read,
And smoke that nasty pipe which stinks:
He never takes the slightest heed
How any of us feels or thinks.

But Lucy fifty times a day
Would come and smile here in my face,
Adjust a tress that curl’d astray,
Or tie a ribbon with more grace:
She look’d so young and fresh and fair,
She blush’d with such a charming bloom,
It did one good to see her there,
And brighten’d all things in the room.