THE copyist group was gathered round A time-worn fresco, world-renowned, Whose central glory once had been The face of Christ, the Nazarene. And every copyist of the crowd With his own soul that face endowed, Gentle, severe, majestic, mean; But which was Christ, the Nazarene? Then one who watched them made complaint, And marvelled, saying, "Wherefore paint Till ye be sure your eyes have seen The face of Christ, the Nazarene?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE HEART'S RETURN by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LINES ON LEAVING THE BEDFORD STR. SCHOOL HOUSE by GEORGE SANTAYANA HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 3. THAILALND by KAREN SWENSON |