Filllled with wisdom, ere he grew to manhood,
Earth’s fleeting beauty prudently he feared:
Then, through the leading of his master, Lanfranc,
Entered the cloister.
High to the secret of the Word he soared,
Borne in the pinions of a faith unshaken,
Who from the purest fountainheads of doctrine
Draweth more deeply?
Thou, tender Father, chosen to be Abbot,
Wast to thy children lovingly devoted,
Bearing the feeble on thy friendly shoulders,
Spurring the zealous.
Lo, the king calls thee to the seat of honor: Why fear the conflict? Triumph comes quickly; Far-distant nations soon with light thou fillest, O noble exile.
Liberty holy for the flock redeemed,
Liberty, which Christ places over all things,
Impelleth Anselm: who could be more zealous
As its defender?
Thee, Rome acclaimeth, glorious Archbishop.
Thee the high Pontiff giveth worthy honours;
Silent the Fathers; of thee the faith demandeth:
Guard thou its doctrine.
Think on thy chosen flock, and be their patron:
Pray the eternal Trinity to bless them,
His be the praises through the world resounding
Now and forever. Amen.
Hymn at Vigils for the feast of Saint Anselm of Canterbury (and Bec)