ody was almost worn out, and greatly weakened, too, by
the bleeding from his wounds, but his soul seemed full of new life and
joy and energy. So, riding upon a donkey, he set out for a last journey
through the country he had loved so much, and along the familiar roads
he had so often tramped. I cannot now tell you of all that happened on
this journey and of the miracles that St. Francis performed; but it was
a wonderful last journey, and already the people had begun to speak of
him as "the Saint."

But towards the end of his journey St. Francis became so ill that he had
to be carried in a litter; and so it was that at last he came back to
the little Portiuncola chapel to die. As you can imagine, he was not
only brave in the face of death, but gay and cheerful. Many Friars had
gathered round their beloved Father, and he spoke comforting words to
them and blessed them; but he gave a very special blessing to Bernard,
who had been the first man to come and join him in those early days when
he was still alone. And he made the brothers sing, joyful and loud, the
song he had himself made up on his last journey, called "The Canticle of
Brother Sun"--a beautiful song all about Brother Sun and Sister Moon,
and the stars, and flowers, and birds, and grass, and Brother Wind, and
how they must all praise God Who made them. And when he knew he must
very soon die, he cried, "Welcome, Sister Death!" And he made them lay
him on the ground, without even his habit, and spread sackcloth over him
and sprinkle ashes upon him, and read to him the story of Our Blessed
Lord's Passion and Death from the Gospel of St. John.

All was still, and outside in the twilight the larks had gathered, and
were soaring up into the evening sky, singing with all their hearts, as
if rejoicing that in a few minutes the soul of their brother Francis
would be free to soar up with them, and away beyond even the reach of
their swift wings, to the beautiful garden of God.

And in the house all was of a sudden marvellously still. And the
brothers, bending down over the form on the floor, saw, through their
tears, that their friend and father had gone. Only for themselves they
wept, for they knew that St. Francis, beautiful and young and strong and
gay once more, was already with his Friend and Master, the Lord Christ,
Who with smile and outstretched hand would welcome him to his glorious
reward. And the Divine Hand outstretched, and the hand of St. Francis,
would be