the Carmel

To Theophane Venard - PN 47

(Air: The Martyr's Farewell)

Priest of the Foreign Missions,

Martyred in Tonkin at the age of 31.

1. All the Chosen celebrate your praises
O Theophane! Angelique Martyr
And I know it, in the holy phalanxes
The seraph aspires to serve you!...
Unable to, exiled on earth
Mingle my voice with that of the Chosen,
I also want on the foreign shore
Take my lyre and sing your virtues...

2. Your short exile was like a sweet hymn
Whose accents knew how to touch hearts
And for Jesus, your poetic soul
Every moment gave birth to flowers.
As you rise to the celestial sphere
Your farewell song was still spring
You whispered: "Me, little ephemeral
In the beautiful Sky, I go the first!...»

3. Happy Martyr, at the hour of torment
You savored the happiness of suffering,
To suffer for God seemed to you a delight.
By smiling, you know how to live and die.....
To your executioner, you hastened to say
When he offered to shorten your torment:
“The longer my painful martyrdom will last
The better it is, the happier I will be!!!”

4. Lys Virginal, in the springtime of your life
The King of Heaven heard your desire,
I see in you: The Blooming Flower
That the Lord gathered for his pleasure...
And now you're no longer exiled
The Blessed admire your splendor.
Rose of Love, The Immaculate Virgin,
From your perfume breathes freshness.

5. Soldier of Christ, ah! lend me your weapons
For sinners, I would like here below
To fight, to suffer in the shade of your palms,
Protect me, come support my arm.
I want for them not ceasing the war
Storming the Kingdom of God
For the Lord brought to the earth
Not peace, but the Sword and the Fire!....

6. I love it too, this cheating beach
Who was the object of your ardent love
With happiness I would fly to her
If the Good Lord called me there one day...
But in his eyes there is no distance
All the universe before Him is but a point
My weak love, my little sufferings
Blessed by Him, make Him loved afar!...

7. Oh! if i were a spring flower
That the Lord would soon want to gather
Come down from Heaven at my last hour
I beseech thee, O Blessed Martyr!
Of your love with the virginal flames
Come set me ablaze in this mortal stay
And I can fly with the souls
Who will form your eternal procession!...

Dating: 2th February 1897
Recipient: Therese herself.
Thérèse offers this poem to her beloved saint on the anniversary of his death

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