

TWO LEFT LEGS. 



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M. M. No. 90. 



ST. Pius was a holy man, 



Who held in detestation 

 The wicked course that others ran, 



So lived upon starvation. 



He thought the world so bad a place, 

 That decent folks should fly it ; 



And, dreaming of a life of grace, 

 Determined straight to try it. 



A cavern was his only house, 



Of limited expansion, 

 And not a solitary mouse 



Dared venture near his mansion. 



He said his beads from morn till night, 

 Nor gave a thought to dinner ; 



And, while his faith absorb'd him quite, 

 He every day grew thinner. 



Vain all the hints by nature given, 

 His saintship would not mind her : 



At length his soul flew back to Heaven, 

 And left his bones behind her. 



Some centuries were gone and past, 



And all forgot his story, 

 Until a sisterhood at last 



Revived his fame and glory. 



To Rome was sent a handsome fee, 



And pious letter fitted, 

 Requesting that the bones might be 



Without delay transmitted. 



The Holy See, with sacred zeal, 



Its relic hoards turn'd over, 

 The skeleton from head to heel 



Of Pius to discover. 

 And having sought with caution deep, 



To tears of grace affected, 

 They recognized the blessed heap 



So anxiously expected. 

 And now the town that would be made 



Illustrious beyond measure, 

 Was all alive with gay parade 



To welcome such a treasure. 



The bishop in his robes of state, 

 Each monk and priest attending, 



Stood reverently within the gate 

 To view the train descending : 



The holy train, that far had gone 



To meet the sacred relic, 

 And now with joyous hymns came on, 



Most like a band angelic. 



4D 



