The Lord said I think thoughts of peace and not of affliction.
You will call upon me and I shall answer you.
Gentle Carthusian, a life of peace and hope was your conviction.
But King and country called you St Hugh.

I recall a family visit to La Grande Chartreuse.
Buried in its Alpine valley, at this commitment we stood in awe.
Into this quiet place comes no bustling news.
Out of this monastery falls a reviving spiritual dew.

St Hugh had to be ordered to leave by his prior.
To Lincoln unwillingly as bishop, he came.
Working with his own hands on his cathedral after the fire.
Ceaselessly travelling and caring for the poor to great acclaim.

He was not afraid to stand up to the King.
We who will never have his courage, only in his praise can we sing.