Lord, grant us holy priests

THE

CARTHUSIANS



To be "Hanged in their habits"

What a glorious thing,

For their silence screamed

"Christ is the King!"



And like the Innocents

So Holy that died,

With sword-cut bodies

Their mothers cried



And wept like mothers

Do today,

Who send their sons

Into the fray



Like Innocent Carthusians,

With staff and rod,

Who continue the defence...

The Priest-sons of God!