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August 25.
SAINT LOUIS.
[_]
Louis IX. King of France, was born April 25, 1215, and died August 25, 1270, the day consecrated to his memory. The misfortune of Canonisation does not the less leave him Saint Louis, Louis the Holy.
“La mesure par la quelle nous devons aimer Dieu, est l' aimer sans mesure.”— Saint Louis.
“The measure whereby we should love God, is to love Him without measure.”
O! seldom doth Heaven's sweetest smile repose
Where Earth her utmost splendour doth impress;
We look not, where the kingly purple glows,
For the white, gleaming robes of righteousness.
Where Earth her utmost splendour doth impress;
We look not, where the kingly purple glows,
For the white, gleaming robes of righteousness.
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Yet once the oil upon his head was poured
Whose heart had won the unction of God's grace;
A sovereign once each humblest saint outsoared,
The heavenliest soul was in the highest place.
Whose heart had won the unction of God's grace;
A sovereign once each humblest saint outsoared,
The heavenliest soul was in the highest place.
O lowliness of mortal majesty!
O sceptred hand, God's righteous will that wrought!
Yes, once a thronëd servant faithfully
His work to the Divine Taskmaster brought.
O sceptred hand, God's righteous will that wrought!
Yes, once a thronëd servant faithfully
His work to the Divine Taskmaster brought.
O! once it pleased a victor to restore
The forfeit realms of his defeated foe;
Yes, once a king held sin the only sore,
Though deeply learnëd in the lore of woe.
The forfeit realms of his defeated foe;
Yes, once a king held sin the only sore,
Though deeply learnëd in the lore of woe.
O! once in the rough ways of holiness
A monarch walked as in the paths of pleasure;
Yes, only yielded to the sweet excess
Of loving his dear Lord in over-measure!
A monarch walked as in the paths of pleasure;
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Of loving his dear Lord in over-measure!
O Shining Ones! O People of the Sky!
Ye lack not quite the company of kings:
Death clothes one monarch in new majesty;
To a more glorious throne Saint Louis springs.
Ye lack not quite the company of kings:
Death clothes one monarch in new majesty;
To a more glorious throne Saint Louis springs.
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