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But suddenly the Mirror went altogether dark, as dark, as if hole had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the black abyss appeared a single Eye that slowly grew, until it filled the nearly all the Mirror. So terrible was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to cry out or to withdrow his gaze. The Eye was rimmed with fire, but was itself glazed, yellow as a cat's, watchfull and intent, and a black slit on it's pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing.

Then the Eye began to rove, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among many things that it sought he himself was one. But he also knew that it could not see him - not yet, not unless he willded it. The Ring that hung upon its chain about his neck grew heavy, heavier than a great stone, and his head was dragged downwards. The Mirror seemed to be growing hot and curls of steam were rising from the water.

`Do not touch the water!' said the Lady Galadriel softly. The vision faded, and Frodo found that he was looking at the cool stars twinkling in the silver basin. He stepped back shaking all over, and looked at the Lady.

from The Fellowship of the Ring "The Mirror of Galadriel".

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