 | Evensong |  |
19
THE ASS OF HEAVEN
If I was like St Francis,
As no such thing am I,
I'd give to folk of Heaven
A name to call me by,
The Ass of Christ, my haster
In lands beyond the sky.
As no such thing am I,
I'd give to folk of Heaven
A name to call me by,
The Ass of Christ, my haster
In lands beyond the sky.
If I could bear as meekly
Stumbling up-hill my load,
As he, my four-foot brother,
Innured to curse and rod,
'Twould not so ill unseem me
To be the Ass of God.
Stumbling up-hill my load,
As he, my four-foot brother,
Innured to curse and rod,
'Twould not so ill unseem me
To be the Ass of God.
If I could stand so patient,
In scourging wind and rain,
And bear so uncomplaining
The bitter ways of man;
To be the Ass of Heaven
Would be my glory then.
In scourging wind and rain,
And bear so uncomplaining
The bitter ways of man;
To be the Ass of Heaven
Would be my glory then.
But I, so cold, so froward,
So fain of my own will,
Hating the load I carry,
Aware of every hill!
Make me like this small brother,
Kind and forgiving still!
So fain of my own will,
Hating the load I carry,
Aware of every hill!
Make me like this small brother,
Kind and forgiving still!
20
If like this honest brother
I bore the blame and shame,
The Cross between my shoulders
To show Whose ass I am,
The folk of Heaven might hail me
The Ass of Christ by name.
I bore the blame and shame,
The Cross between my shoulders
To show Whose ass I am,
The folk of Heaven might hail me
The Ass of Christ by name.
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