Far Horizons

by Bliss Carman


 

THE BROTHERS OF SAINT FRANCIS


 

THE age of ruthless speeding
Tears madly on today,
Bu the Brothers of St. Francis
Must fare afoot alway.

No privilege of leisure

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Their ministry commands,
With a message in their girdle
For the freeing of the lands.

Yet thrushes fill their twilights
And stars of morning sing,

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As they take the dust of travel
On the Business of the King.

Soft sleep and easy faring
For those to riches bound;
For the Brothers of St. Francis

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A blanket on the ground.

But ah, what dreams attend them
Before the stars grow wan,—
Visions of joy triumphant
When violence is gone!

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The greedy will be fighting
With tooth and nail and sword,
But the Brothers of St. Francis
Must pattern by their Lord.

The foolish will be striving

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With words and words and words,
But the Brothers of St. Francis
Have secrets with the birds.

At evening and at morning
They hear their brothers sing,

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And their hearts leap up with gladness
On the Highroad of the King.