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Poem by William Harrison Ainsworth


Hymn to Saint Thecla


In my trouble, in my anguish,
      In the depths of my despair,
As in grief and pain I languish,
      Unto thee I raise my prayer. 
Sainted virgin! martyr’d maiden! 
      Let thy countenance incline
Upon one with woes o’erladen,
      Kneeling lowly at thy shrine;
That in agony, in terror,
      In her blind perplexity,
Wandering weak in doubt and error,
      Calleth feebly upon thee. 
Sinful thoughts, sweet saint, oppress me,
      Thoughts that will not be dismissed;
Temptations dark possess me,
      Which my strength may not resist. 
I am full of pain, and weary
      Of my life; I fain would die: 
Unto me the world is dreary;
      To the grave for rest I fly. 
For rest! oh! could I borrow
      Thy bright wings, celestial dove! 
They should waft me from my sorrow,
      Where peace dwells in bowers above. 
            Upon one with woes o’erladen,
                  Kneeling lowly at thy shrine;
            Sainted virgin! martyr’d maiden! 
                  Let thy countenance incline!
                        Mei miséréré Virgo,
                        Requiem aeternam dona!

By thy loveliness, thy purity,
      Unpolluted, undefiled,
That in serene security
      Upon earth’s temptations smiled; 
By the fetters that constrain’d thee,
      By thy flame-attested faith,
By the fervor that sustain’d thee,
      By thine angel-ushered death; 
By thy soul’s divine elation,
      ’Mid thine agonies assuring
Of thy sanctified translation
      To beatitude enduring; 
By the mystic interfusion
      Of thy spirit with the rays,
That in ever bright profusion
      Round the Throne Eternal blaze; 
By thy portion now partaken,
      With the pain-perfected just;
Look on one of hope forsaken,
      From the gates, of mercy thrust. 
            Upon one with woes o’erladen,
                  Kneeling lowly at thy shrine,
            Sainted virgin! martyr’d maiden! 
                  Let thy countenance incline!
                        Ora pro me mortis hora! 
                        Sancta Virgo, oro te! 
                              Kyrie Eleison!



William Harrison Ainsworth


William Harrison Ainsworth's other poems:
  1. One Foot in the Stirrup, or Turpin's First Fling
  2. The Game of High Toby
  3. The Modern Greek
  4. The Legend of Valdez
  5. The Twice-Used Ring


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