 | Cuckoo songs |  |
90
Our Lady of Pity
She stands, Our Lady of Pity,
Over the old church porch,
Outside the walls of the city;
The sea creeps up to the church.
Over the old church porch,
Outside the walls of the city;
The sea creeps up to the church.
She is worn and dim with the weather,
No Baby is on her breast;
Her crown is browner than leather,
Where swallows have made a nest.
No Baby is on her breast;
Her crown is browner than leather,
Where swallows have made a nest.
Your Lady of marble is rarer,
Your Lady of silver is fine,
But Our Lady of Pity is dearer,
Stained with the rain and brine.
Your Lady of silver is fine,
But Our Lady of Pity is dearer,
Stained with the rain and brine.
91
O, lonely she leans for ever,
Her arms outstretched to take in
The city with woe and fever,
The city with want and sin!
Her arms outstretched to take in
The city with woe and fever,
The city with want and sin!
Once, the old folk aver it,
Her hands were clasped on her heart,
Till the cry of a broken spirit
Brought them in blessing apart.
Her hands were clasped on her heart,
Till the cry of a broken spirit
Brought them in blessing apart.
Was a young maid wailing and crying
In her chamber under the moon,
Of a hurt heart, hurt and undying,
That must be hid at the noon.
In her chamber under the moon,
Of a hurt heart, hurt and undying,
That must be hid at the noon.
Her cheeks were greyer and greyer,
Her hands were fevered and dry;
Her lips would murmur a prayer
But only fashioned a cry.
Her hands were fevered and dry;
Her lips would murmur a prayer
But only fashioned a cry.
92
She was hurt past human recover,
With a mortal pain in her side;
And she dared not think of her lover,
Her lover was with his bride.
With a mortal pain in her side;
And she dared not think of her lover,
Her lover was with his bride.
She said, ‘I will out of the city
Where naught of comfort is found,
And the kind, kind Lady of Pity
Will give me staunch for my wound.’
Where naught of comfort is found,
And the kind, kind Lady of Pity
Will give me staunch for my wound.’
The wind is growing, and blowing
The snow on her silken head,
The casements no light are showing,
For all the folk are in bed.
The snow on her silken head,
The casements no light are showing,
For all the folk are in bed.
But she struggles on through the city,
And out where the surges roar,
And the lonely Lady of Pity
Is over the old church door.
And out where the surges roar,
And the lonely Lady of Pity
Is over the old church door.
93
She sobs her pitiful story
To the silent Lady of stone;
The stars look down in their glory,
The wind flies by with a moan.
To the silent Lady of stone;
The stars look down in their glory,
The wind flies by with a moan.
The stars look down in their splendour.
What marvel then doth betide?
The Lady of Pity so tender
Hath opened her arms out wide.
What marvel then doth betide?
The Lady of Pity so tender
Hath opened her arms out wide.
And the heart that hath suffered and striven
Is filled with a blessed peace.
‘Is this the rapture of Heaven?’
She cries, in her pain's surcease.
Is filled with a blessed peace.
‘Is this the rapture of Heaven?’
She cries, in her pain's surcease.
In the wild, wild morning they found her
Dead as a frozen bird;
And the snows had drifted around her
Like the ermine cape of a lord.
Dead as a frozen bird;
And the snows had drifted around her
Like the ermine cape of a lord.
94
And Our Lady of Pity be praisèd!
She leant from her place above,
Her arms outstretched and upraisèd,
In tender pity and love.
She leant from her place above,
Her arms outstretched and upraisèd,
In tender pity and love.
And so she's leaning for ever,
Her arms outstretched to take in
The city, with woe and fever,
The city, with want and sin.
Her arms outstretched to take in
The city, with woe and fever,
The city, with want and sin.
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