9781787370050 by Anonymous

Author:Anonymous [Anonymous]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Our Virgin-Band to grace, both having to their father

Religious Ina, red with those which ruld the West,

Whose mothers sacred wombe with other Saints was blest,

As after shall be shew’d: an other Virgin vow’d,

And likewise for a Saint amongst the rest allow’d;

To th’elder Edward borne, bright Eadburg, who for she,

(As five related Saints of that blest name there be)

Of Wilton Abbasse was, they her of Wilton styl’d:

Was ever any Mayd more mercifull, more mild,

Or sanctimonious knowne: But Muse, on in our Song,

With other princely Mayds, but first with those that sprung

From Penda, that great King of Mercia; holy Tweed,

And Kinisdred, with these their sisters, Kinisweed,

And Eadburg, last not least, at Godmanchester all

Incloystred; and to these Saint Tibba let us call,

In solitude to Christ, that set her whole delight,

In Godmanchester made a constant Anchorite.

Amongst which of that house, for Saints that reckoned be,

Yet never any one more grac’d the fame then she.

Deriv’d of royall Blood, as th’other Elfled than

Neece to that mighty King, our English Athelstan,

At Glastenbury shrin’d; and one as great as shee,

Being Edward Out-lawes child, a Mayd that liv’d to see

The Conquerour enter here, Saint Christian (to us knowne)

Whose life by her cleere name divinely was foreshowne.

For holinesse of life, that as renowned were,

And not lesse nobly borne, nor bred, produce we here;

Saint Hilda, and Saint Hien, the first of noble name,

At Strenshalt, tooke her vow, the other sister came

To Colchester, and grac’d the rich Essexian shore:

Whose Reliques many a day the world did there adore.

And of our sainted Mayds, the number to supply,

Of Eadburg we allow, sometime at Alsbury,

To Redwald then a King of the East-Angles borne,

A Votresse as sincere as shee thereto was sworne.

Then Pandwine we produce, whom this our native Isle,

As forraine parts much priz’d, and higher did instyle,

The holyest English Mayd, whose Vigils long were held

In Lincolneshire; yet not Saint Frideswid exceld,

The Abbesse of an house in Oxford, of her kind

The wonder; nor that place, could hope the like to find.

Two sisters so we have, both to devotion plite,

And worthily made Saints; the elder Margarite,

Of Katsby Abbesse was, and Alice, as we read,

Her sister on that seat, did happily succeed,

At Abington, which first receiv’d their living breath.

Then those Northumbrian Nymphs, all vayld, as full of Faith,

That Country sent us in, t’increase our Virgin-Band,

Faire Elfled, Oswalds child, King of Northumberland,

At Strenshalt that was vaild. As mongst those many there,

O Ebba, whose cleere fame, time never shall out-weare,

At Coldingham, farre hence within that Country plac’d;

The Abbesse, who to keepe thy vayled Virgins chast,

Which else thou fearst the Danes would ravish, which possest

This Isle; first of thy selfe and then of all the rest,

The Nose and upper Lip from your fayre faces kerv’d,

And from pollution so your hallowed house preserv’d.

Which when the Danes perceiv’d, their hopes so farre deluded,

Setting the house on fire, their Martyrdome concluded.

As Leofron, whose faith with others rightly wayd,

Shall shew her not out-match’d by any English Mayd:

Who likewise when the Dane with persecution storm’d,

She here a Martyrs part most gloriously perform’d.

Two holy Mayds againe at

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