I watched Him several times as He stood in an attitude of prayer at the doorway of the shrine of the Imám Husayn. So wrapt was He in His devotions that He seemed utterly oblivious of those around Him. Tears rained from His eyes, and from His lips fell words of glorification and praise of such power and beauty as even the noblest passages of our sacred Scriptures could not hope to surpass. The words, "O God, my God, my Beloved, my heart's Desire" were uttered with such a frequency and ardour that those of the visiting pilgrims who were near enough to hear Him instinctively interrupted the course of their devotions, and marveled at the evidences of piety and veneration which that youthful countenance evinced. Like Him they were moved to tears and, and from Him they learned the lesson of true adoration. Having completed His prayers, that Youth, without crossing the threshold of the shrine and without attempting to address any words to those around Him, would quietly return to His home.