Troubadour

In raiment coarse and rough endued
A cord his only ceinture rude
With scanty measure for his food
His feet withal unshod
For the poverty of Christ he yearns
From earthly splendor he dost turn
This noble troubadour has spurned
Despising all for God
Within a mountain cave alone
He hides to weep and lying prone
He prays aloud with sigh and groan
For peace to fill his heart
New signs of highest sanctity
Singing praise exceedingly
Beautiful and wondrous to see
The troubadour to sing
The troubadour of the Great King
Then seraph-like in heaven’s height
The King of Kings appears in sight
His soul in passion’s awesome night
Beholds the vision dread
For it bears the wounds of Christ and lo
While gazing on a speechless woe
The hidden marks upon his soul
Now wound his flesh blood red
His body now like the Crucified
Signed on hands and feet and side
Transformed in life to love and die
With Jesus Christ our Lord
New signs of highest sanctity
Singing praise exceedingly
Beautiful and wondrous to see
The troubadour to sing
The troubadour of the Great King
Within his soul songs secret sound
To silent melodies abound
Caught up to God this singer found
His song and he understood