Page:The Soul of a Century.djvu/84

 “Commanded by your mother/ I went forth To where the Jordan flows. Judea’s women Blinded me with their beauty. Each one seemed More beautiful to me. I heard of one, A sinner she was called, and this was said of her; That she had met a strangely gifted man Who made of her a saint with but a glance. I was so curious/ that I set out At once to reach the seat of Judea Where she dwelt alone. And the nearer I approached The more I heard about this gifted man Whom men called Holy. Wearily/ at length I came To far Jerusalem. My mind over filled With thoughts of this strange man, and I forgot To seek the sinner of whose varied charms They spoke throughout that distant, foreign land.

My King, ’twas there that I saw Jesus Christ. His look contained more in one passing glance Than could be stated in the words of man. I knelt before him and I humbly begged Of him the right to paint his countenance, Hoping that I could bring to you. My Lord, His shining features to Armenia. Christ smiled and nodded in a dreamy way And I began to work. But all in vain. My hands just trembled and into my eyes Rose unchecked tears; My heart began to beat With so much sadness and unbridled joy, That I was blinded and could no longer work. Thrice I attempted to record those lines With brush on canvas and thrice ill luck Filled my soul with despair, and wretchedly I hid my tear-stained face. Then Christ, who saw My struggling grief, came near and said to me Softly; “Man, cease your sorrowing lament, For I will help you.” From his mother’s hand He took a white cloth and gently buried there His holy countenance in the soft wool web. That very moment. Mighty miracle! His features shone upon the snow-white cloth As brightly as a star that gleams above. And his holy picture, look, rests in my hands.”