Francis After Collestrada

Our army met Perugia’s on the plain
beside the hospital. All day we fought
with crossbow, sword, and lancet to obtain
our freedom, but by dusk it came to naught.
So I became a prisoner of men,
as glorious as a rat holed in its nest,
and mourned for joys I might not taste again,
considering him pierced the truly blessed.
Then skulking home, I gained some intimation
of grace in watching lepers beg their food,
and learned no earthly city is my nation,
and that affliction borne can proffer good.
For Heaven holds neither Ghibelline nor Guelph,
but those whom God abases for himself.

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

Portico Launch Party

Micah Mattix

Join us at the Union League Club in New York to celebrate the first issue of Portico.…

Pitch for a Catholic Novel

Jonathan Clarke

Imagine a middle-aged white man in good clothes waiting for a morning train at a station of…

Disclosure in Modern Poetry (ft. Glenn Arbery)

R. R. Reno

In this episode, Glenn C. Arbery joins R. R. Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about…