It is said that for a week afterwards he forgot his breviary, and passed his days in repeating to himself the strophes of his wonderful poem—a work in which, for all its religious ardour, the note of asceticism is little apparent; unless one sees it in his usual quaint adoption of the things of creation into a religious community! I append a literal translation, omitting two later verses composed for special occasions and not belonging to the first pure inspiration. It is written in unrhymed irregular stanzas:—
CANTICLE OF THE SUN
Most high, all-powerful, good Lord,
thine are praises, glory, honour and all benediction.
To Thee alone, Most high, they are due,
and no man is worthy to name Thee.
Have praise, Lord, with all Thy creatures,
especially Brother my Lord the Sun.
He gives the day, and by him Thou showest light,
and he is beautiful and radiant, with great splendour.