Requiescant in pace.
They were so young, those Frenchmen three,
When Thou didst call them home to Thee!
O Lord, they longed Thy priests to be...
Deny them not Thy rest,
But, as they died in glacial cold,
May Thy kind arms their souls enfold,
And warmly, safely, closely hold
Close to Thy sacred breast.
Jesu, Thy call, so sudden, came;
No time for fear, regret, or shame;
They only heard you call each name,
And answered instantly.
Michael, Raymond, Jean-Baptiste,
Surely, of thy dear sons, not least,
Yearning, each one, to be Thy priest
And win more souls for Thee.
They longed to preach, to baptize too,
And teach to all Thy teaching true,
But Thou, before the Host as YOU
Their loving hands caressed,
Didst call them to Thy home, and through
The ice their souls before Thee flew.
Lord, till Thou makest all things new,
Grant them eternal rest.
-- February 22, 2009