15 September 2008

Stabat Mater

At the cross her vigil keeping,
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
where he hung, the dying Lord:

There she waited in her anguish,
seeing Christ in torment languish,
in her heart the piercing sword.

With what pain and desolation,
with what grief and resignation,
Mary watched her dying Son.

Deep the woe of her affliction,
when she saw the crucifixion
of the sole-begotten one.

Him she saw for our salvation
mocked with cruel acclamation,
scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined.

Saw him then from judgement taken,
and in death by all forsaken,
till his spirit he resigned.

Who, on Christ’s dear Mother gazing,
pierced by anguish so amazing,
born of woman, would not weep?

Who, on Christ’s dear Mother thinking,
such a cup of sorrow drinking,
would not share her sorrows deep?

Jesus, may her deep devotion
stir in me the same emotion,
Fount of love, Redeemer kind.

That my heart fresh ardour gaining,
and a purer love attaining,
may with thee acceptance find.