To-morrow is commemorated the impression of the sacred stigmata of St Francis; here is a hymn translated by Edward Caswall, appropriate to the coming day:
Crucis Christi mons Alvernae.
LET Alverna's holy mountain
That high mystery proclaim,
Of the stamps of life eternal
Which on blessed Francis came ;
While he sobb'd, and while he sigh'd,
Grieving for the Crucified.
There, within a lonely cavern,
Far from all the world withdrawn,
As the Saint his watch was keeping,
With incessant scourgings torn ;
Ever musing more and more
On the wounds that Jesus bore ; —
As he pray'd in cold and hunger ;
As he pour'd his glowing tears ;
In his fervent spirit mounting
Far above terrestrial spheres,
Every earthly thing forgot
In his Saviour's bitter lot ; —
Lo to him, in form seraphic,
Borne upon a cross on high,
Six irradiant wings expanding,
Came the King of glory nigh !
Gazing on him with a face
Of benignity and grace.
He that tender glance returning,
Saw th' Incarnate Light of Light;
Saw his gracious meek Redeemer,
Rob'd in glory infinite;
Drank the words that from Him fell,-
Words divine, unspeakable !
Straightway all the sacred summit
Kindles like a flaming pyre;
Holy Francis sinks enraptur'd,
Fainting with ecstatic fire ;
And upon his flesh appear-
Christ's immortal stigmata !
Honour to the high Redeemer,
Who for us in torments died ;
In whose image blessed Francis
Suffer'd and was sanctified,
Counting every thing but loss
For the glory of the Cross.