Chevalier Charles Coulombe on Our Lady of Walsingham

The Chevalier discusses Our Lady of Walsingham and her Shrine at Walsingham, in Norfolk, England. The Shrine originated when Our Lady appeared to  Richeldis de Faverches, a pious English noblewoman, in 1061 in the village of Walsingham. The Blessed Virgin gave the Lady Richeldis the dimensions of her home in Nazareth where the Archangel Gabriel had appeared to her at the Annunciation. As a result Lady Richeldis had a building structure named "The Holy House", a replica of the home in which Our Lord was reared, built in Walsingham. It eventually became the largest, most loved Marian shrine in England, or 'Our Lady's Dowry' as it was known before the Deformation.

He also discusses the way the Angels moved the original Holy House from Nazareth to Loreto, via Croatia, with an earlier stop in another place in Italy.

A Lament for Our Lady's Shrine at Walsingham

In the wracks of Walsingham
Whom should I choose
But the Queen of Walsingham
to be my guide and muse.

Then, thou Prince of Walsingham,
Grant me to frame
Bitter plaints to rue thy wrong,
Bitter woe for thy name.

Bitter was it so to see
The seely sheep
Murdered by the ravenous wolves
While the shepherds did sleep.

Bitter was it, O to view
The sacred vine,
Whilst the gardeners played all close,
Rooted up by the swine.

Bitter, bitter, O to behold
The grass to grow
Where the walls of Walsingham
So stately did show.

Such were the worth of Walsingham
While she did stand,
Such are the wracks as now do show
Of that Holy Land.

Level, level, with the ground
The towers do lie,
Which, with their golden glittering tops,
Pierced once to the sky.

Where were gates are no gates now,
The ways unknown
Where the press of peers did pass
While her fame was blown.

Owls do scrike where the sweetest hymns
Lately were sung,
Toads and serpents hold their dens
Where the palmers did throng.

Weep, weep, O Walsingham,
Whose days are nights,
Blessings turned to blasphemies,
Holy deeds to despites.

Sin is where Our Lady sat,
Heaven is turned to hell,
Satan sits where Our Lord did sway --
Walsingham, O farewell!