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.

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