 | Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay |  |
THE VOICE OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI
I saw St. Francis by a stream
Washing his wounds that bled.
The aspens quivered overhead.
The silver doves flew round.
Weeping and sore dismayed
“Peace, peace,” St. Francis prayed.
Washing his wounds that bled.
The aspens quivered overhead.
The silver doves flew round.
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“Peace, peace,” St. Francis prayed.
But the soft doves quickly fled.
Carrion crows flew round.
An earthquake rocked the ground.
Carrion crows flew round.
An earthquake rocked the ground.
“War, war,” the west wind said.
| Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | |