Doppelganger
Who is this stranger, in these wonted rooms—
Shuffling and old, shaking, white-haired and bent?
Before I am aware of him, he looms
Out of shadow, and stares, as though he meant
To speak, but found no words. Who is he—
This harmless haunting, this pitiably dazed,
Hopelessly lost thing, roaming aimlessly
His fire-circle, and evidently crazed?
Eluding him, I steal out of the room
Because I do not know that face of doom.