Breviary Hymns and Missal Sequences, Stigmata of Saint Francis, Matins

Beneath the mountain’s rugged height,
Francis in prayer to Jesus turns,
Fast nailed upon the blood-stained tree,
And with hot love his spirit burns.

“Ah, who will nail both hands of mine?”
He asks with many ardent sighs,
“Who pierce my heart with lance’s thrust?”
Ofttimes the Saint lamenting cries.

Then suddenly from Heaven’s height,
Christ, nailed upon the bleeding rood,
Like to a wing-veiled Seraph comes,
With His five Wounds all red with Blood.

Five pointed rays these Wounds give forth
And wounds, which ever shall abide,
Make in that ardent lover’s flesh,
Piercing his hands, and feet, and side.

Francis, what was thy gladness then!
And what the pangs of cruel woe!
If sense of love, or sense of grief
Were stronger, this we cannot know.

Who art revealed to little ones,
O Jesus, glory be to Thee,
With Father and with Holy Ghost,
Ever through all Eternity. Amen.

– translated by Archbishop Edward Gilpin Bagshawe, C.O., Bishop of Nottingham, England