St. Francis Of Assisi - Poem by Vachel Lindsay
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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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You