1. I turn my eyes to the painting, yet I see
Nothing but traces of her who was depicted there

2. And when I ask about him, each tells me
That he never saw him, nor knew who he was

3. So I say to them, how strange! For I
Only saw him through your likeness portrayed there

4. I recognized him through you, and then grew
To know him more, though denying him I was

5. I marvel how he hid though revealing himself
My eye's veil to his revealing was its cover

6. Behold and marvel then, at one whose outward self
Conceals, whose inward self remains manifest