And, on our way there, tomorrow, in our medieval minibus, we shall sing hymns and say the Rosary and indulge in some good Catholic humour (in the manner of medieval pilgrims).
This is a beautiful piece although, I suspect, we shall be more in the 'Faith of Our Fathers' neck of the woods.
I found this hymn to St Winefride in an old Westminster Hymnal....no idea as to the music, but it tells her story rather well:
More fair than all the vernal flowers
Embosom'd in the dales,
St Winefride in beauty bloom'd,
The rose of ancient Wales.
With every loveliest grace adorn'd,
The Lamb's unsullied bride,
Apart from all the world she dwelt
Upon this mountainside.
Caradoc then, with impious love,
Her fleeing steps pursued,
And in her sacred maiden blood
His cruel hands imbrued.
He straight the debt of vengeance paid,
Ingulf'd in yawning flame;
But God a deed of wonder work'd
To her immortal fame.
For where the grassy sward received
The martyr's sever'd head,
This holy fountain upward gush'd,
Of crystal vein'd with red.
Here miracles of might are wrought;
Here all diseases fly;
Here see the blind, and speak the dumb,
Who but in faith draw nigh.
Assist us, glorious Winefride,
Dear virgin, ever blest!
The passions of our hearts appease,
And lull each storm to rest.