The Wall

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“What a dear old wall that is that runs along by the river there! I never pass it without feeling better for the sight of it. Such a mellow, bright, sweet old wall; what a charming picture it would make, with the lichen creeping here, and the moss growing there, a shy young vine peeping over the top at this spot, to see what is going on upon the busy river, and the sober old ivy clustering a little farther down! There are fifty shades and tints and hues in every ten yards of that old wall. . . . It looks so peaceful and so quiet, and it is such a dear old place to ramble round in the early morning before many people are about.” Jerome K. Jerome, “Three Men In A Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)” Ch. 6 (1889)

"Troubadour" by John Michael Talbot

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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 

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