From out thy brow, Maria, upward mounts.
This glow takes shape, and grows to human form.
It is a man with spirit deep imbued,
And other men do gather round his feet.
I gaze into dim times, long passed away
On that good man who rose from out thy head:
His eyes do shine with perfect peace of soul;
And deep true feeling glows in every line
And feature of his noble countenance.
A woman facing him mine eye doth see,