St. Francis of Assisi

Would I might wake St. Francis in you all,

Brother of birds and trees, God's Troubadour,

Blinded with weeping for the sad and poor;

Our wealth undone, all strict Franciscan men,

Come, let us chant the canticle again

Of mother earth and the enduring sun.

God make each soul the lonely leper's slave;

God make us saints, and brave.