The purple morn falls far and .wide,
In flakes of light on mountain side,
Holly sprinkled, steeps, cradle mount alvernia,
Nestling the enchanted assisi,
Where poverello for his spouse he chose
The lady poverty;
St. Clare followed the footfalls of st. Francis,
Their spirits united in one.
We will go….to thine altar….
Clapping hands….with songs of joy;….
He offers us….green pastures and….
His goodness shall follow.
The rocks echo our motto,
Per aspera ad astra,
In gaiety we strive towards a brighter road,
Thousands of twinkling, bright little hearts,
To reach silver clouds that crest the mount’s brow,
Undaunted we do aspire.
As each moment passes by us and with
Our cherished motto before us.
From glittering steeples the bells ring loud,
With sparkling eyes and breaking smiles,
To sooth and to cheer the poor man’s solitude
Touched by beggar’s moan of human woes
Alvernia offers a shady porch
For the helpless and the weary ones.
With glad tidings of love she leads us all
Under the protective arms of god.