(“The Sorrowful Mother Stood”)
At the Cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword hath passed
Oh, how sad and sore distressed
Was that Mother highly blessed
Of the sole-begotten One!
Christ above in torment hangs;
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son
Is there one who would not weep
‘Whelmed in miseries so deep
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother’s pain untold?
For the sins of His own nation
Saw Him hang in desolation
All with bloody scourges rent
Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled
She beheld her tender Child
Till His Spirit forth He sent
O, thou Mother, fount of love,
Touch my spirit from above,
Make my heart with thine accord
Make me feel as thou hast felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ our Lord
Holy Mother, pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Saviour crucified
Let me share with thee His pain,
Who for all my sins was slain,
Who for me in torments died
Let me mingle tears with thee,
Mourning Him Who mourned for me,
All the days that I may live
By the Cross with thee to stay,
There with thee to weep and pray,
This of thee I ask to give
Virgin of all virgins blest,
Listen to my fond request:
Let me share thy grief divine
Let me, to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of thine
Wounded with His every wound
Steep my soul till it hath swooned
In His very blood away
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In that awful Judgment Day
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defense,
Be Thy Cross my victory
While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee. Amen.