Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OUR LADY OF PITY, by KATHARINE TYNAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

OUR LADY OF PITY, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: She stands, our lady of pity
Last Line: The city, with want and sin
Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan
Subject(s): Christianity


She stands, Our Lady of Pity
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.


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.


0, lonely she leans for ever
Her arms outstretched to take in
The city with woe and fever
The city with want and sin!


Once, the old folk aver it
Their 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. '


Her cheeks were greyer and greyer
He; hands were fevered and dry -
Her lips would murmur a prayer
But only fashioned a cry.


'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. '


She said, "I will out of the city,
Where naught of comfort is found
And the kind, kind Lady of Pity,
Will give me stanch 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. '


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.


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.


The stars look down in their splendour
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.


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.


And Our Lady of Pity be praised!
She leant from her place above··
Her arms outstretched and upraised,
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.






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