Classic Poem

M EDARDUS walked his studio-cell,
And sights of Heaven and shapes of Hell
Passed by him in a dream;
For he a picture fain would paint
Of Mary or some blessed saint,
In altar-niche to gleam.

And there in vision Mary came,
Her face as bright as purest flame,
Her form of matchless grace;
And dark beneath her feet he sees —
A sight to make the vitals freeze —
The Adversary's face.

" This shall my picture be, " he said,
And seized his brush and straight essayed
To make the vision good;
Nor cared for food, nor cared for rest,
But day and night, like one possessed,
Before his canvas stood.

The Virgin lent her kindly aid,
And soon the sacred dream was stayed,
And on the canvas glowed;
The Virgin fair as fair could be,
But Satan not more hideously
Glowers in his own abode.

But as one day Medardus stood
In happy and exultant mood
Before his picture done,
He felt a chilling presence near,
And knew by something dark and drear
That he was not alone.

The Adversary spoke — 'twas he —
And promised gifts most lavishly,
If but Medardus would
Take something from the Virgin's grace
Or make his own accursed face
With less of hell imbued.

But no: Medardus seized his brush,
And gave the Virgin's face a flush
Of meaning more divine;
While on the Adversary's face
He left a more terrific trace,
A more infernal sign.

Again the Tempter came to him,
But now with threatenings harsh and grim
Of evil things to come;
But still Medardus would not yield,
And still her face with splendor filled
The dark and narrow room.

At last a day had come when all
The people made high festival;
And, best of all the glee,
The picture by Medardus made
Would in the great square be displayed,
That all might come and see.

And there it was; and while the crowd
Surged up, with acclamations loud,
To view the wondrous thing,
Medardus close beside it stood,
And praised the Virgin that he could
Make her such offering.

But sudden there was heard a cry,
And then down-swooping from on high
The Adversary sped:
Medardus seized, and high in air
Bore him; then on the pavement there
He dashed him, bleeding — dead.

But see! The Virgin seems to move
Her pictured arms; her face with love
Unspeakable is sweet:
She reaches from the picture forth,
And lifts Medardus from the earth
And sets him on his feet.

Again he lives! Again he sees
The crowd, now hushed upon their knees,
And hears the Virgin say
" As thou wast ever true to me,
To-day I have been true to thee,
And will be true alway. "

O Heavenly Father, grant that we
May from this tale of mystery
This simple lesson gain:
That, if Thy visions we obey,
Whatever comes to curse or slay,
It will but come in vain.