On a Remembered Picture of Christ--an Ecce Homo by Leonardo Da Vinci

I met that image on a mirthful day
Of youth; and, sinking with a still’d surprise,
The pride of life, before those holy eyes,
In my quick heart died thoughtfully away,
Abash’d to mute confession of a sway
Awful, though meek. And now that, from the strings
Of my soul’s lyre, the tempest’s mighty wings
Have struck forth tones which then unwaken’d lay;
Now that, around the deep life of my mind,
Affections, deathless as itself, have twined,
Oft does the pale, bright vision still float by;
But more divinely sweet, and speaking now
Of One whose pity, throned on that sad brow,
Sounded all depths of love, grief, death, humanity!