Saint Winifred of Wales

A virgin flourishing as the rose,

The comely bride of Him Who is the Lamb,

As the precious martyr of Christ,

Hath Winifred richly blossomed.

Sprung from the stock of Britons,

Unshakable in faith, joyful in hope,

Holy in deeds, and pure of mind,

She was free of this world’s deceptions.

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This virgin was slain by Caradoc,

And immediately the pit of Orcus hell swallowed him up.

For that is the place for the wicked,

And there with Satan he is burning.

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In demonstrating proof of this happening,

A fountain welleth up at the bidding of God,

In the likeness of crimson reddening,

Where she was deprived of her head.

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There many miracles are performed;

The blind see, and the dumb are given speech,

All manner of disease is put to flight,

When those who ask have faith.

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O Winifred, our glorious lady,

Calm for us the billows of the sea,

Lest we become the ready prey of the enemy,

O compassionate one, afford us thy protection.

Amen.

 

– from the Complete Old Sarum Rite Missal