(SingingOwl looks around nervously, clears throat loudly and taps mike.)
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In Honor of St Augustine
St. Augustine of Hippo,
Was quite a fan of Cicero.
He loved his Latin, not his Greek,
But sure did love the ladies.
Oh!
Monica was his mother,
She followed Jesus, no other.
Her son was smart but had no heart,
And pagan ways did beckon,
Oh!
He sought to learn philosophy,
And find a way to be quite free,
The Manicheans sounded right,
The told him “Sin! Why fight?”
Oh!
Augustine went off to Rome,
He taught and wrote and felt at home.
But soon his mistress had a son,
And life turned hard and sad.
Oh!
This man who was quite smart,
Sustained a broken heart.
His mistress gone, but life went on,
Good Bishop Ambrose came.
Oh!
This Ambrose was a reasoned man,
So Augustine did listen.
Could Christians be both smart and good?
Such questions then did come.
Oh!
A garden walk, God’s own sweet voice,
The scriptures showed he had a choice.
“Pick up and read” the voice did say,
He cried as he read Romans.
Oh!
He struggled with his thoughts and lusts,
He found it hard it hard to rest and trust.
A man of many gifts, he was
A man who loved his Lord.
Oh!
Augustine was made a priest,
The Word of God became a feast.
He preached and wrote of grace, and,
A bishop then became.
Oh!
He wrote and wrote and wrote some more,
His volumes are a goodly store.
Though his “Confessions” are quite lofty,
We read them still today.
Oh!
His life proceeded,
God he heeded,
He wrote and preached,
Till dead.
Oh!
To read a brief biography of St. Augustine in a more serious vein, see this post at Aardvark Alley.