THE CHRISTIAN YEAR
'Behold thy Mother.'
Stabat mater dolorosa.
AT the Cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus at the last,
Through her soul, of joy bereaved,
Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved,
Now at length the sword hath passed.
2 O, that blessèd one, grief-laden,
Blessèd Mother, blessèd Maiden,
Mother of the all-holy One;
O that silent, ceaseless mourning,
O those dim eyes, never turning
From that wondrous, suffering Son.
3 Who on Christ's dear Mother gazing,
In her trouble 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 sorrow deep?
4 For his people's sins, in anguish,
There she saw the victim languish,
Bleed in torments, bleed and die:
Saw the Lord's anointed taken;
Saw her Child in death forsaken;
Heard his last expiring cry.
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