Before the Virgin's Picture

Whene'er my vision bendeth,

Thou form of light, on thee,

My soul's misgiving endeth

And peace descends on me;

A sadness pure and holy

Doth cause my tears to rise;

I bow in homage lowly

Before thy pictured eyes.

When by thy semblance kneeling

Upon my soul is shed

A fervent pious feeling

Of rapture and of dread.

My spirit e'er hath given

Unswerving trust to thee;

Then from thy home in heaven

Look down and succour me.