Beneath the azure Florentine sky, the tale unfolds,
Of Aloysius, the saint, in holy hymns extolled.
A tale spun of devotion, and an enduring love,
A voice of peace, like the cooing of a dove.
From Gonzaga’s noble household he did hail,
Yet he sought a path beyond earthly avail.
In the Jesuit folds, he traced his divine quest,
In humility and service, he found his beauteous zest.
A soldier’s armor he laid aside, with an infant’s mirth,
Embracing a shepherd’s robe, he walked on holy earth.
Toiling in God’s vineyard, in the heart of Rome,
Serving the plague-stricken, making streets his home.
Oh, Aloysius, your courage outshone the Florentine sun,
Your love like Arno’s river, towards the sea did run.
In suffering and solitude, in the shadow of the cross,
You found your kingdom, counting all else as loss.
A youth yet not twenty-four, to the heavens you soared,
Leaving behind echoes of love, forever to be adored.
A celestial lily blooming, your essence never to fade,
In the Jesuit garden, your mark forever made.
Aloysius of Gonzaga, the heavens sing your name,
In the heart of Florence, burns your eternal flame.
In the annals of the faithful, your story gleams,
A beacon of surrender, in God’s love it teems.