The seven great hymns of the mediaeval church/Stabat Mater and Mater Speciosa/Stabat Mater, Coles
STOOD the afflicted mother weeping
Near the cross her station keeping
Whereon hung her Son and Lord;
Through whose spirit sympathizing,
Sorrowing and agonizing
Also parted the cruel sword.
Oh! how mournful and distressed
Was that savored and most blessed
Mother of the only Son!
Trembling, grieving, bosom heaving,
While perceiving, scarce believing,
Pains of that Illustrious One.
Who the man, who, called a brother,
Would not weep, saw he Christ's mother
In such deep distrefs and wild?
Who could not fad tribute render
Witnessing that mother tender
Agonizing with her child?
For His people's fins atoning,
Him she saw in torments groaning,
Given to the scourger's rod;
Saw her darling offspring dying,
Desolate, forsaken, crying,
Yield His spirit up to God.
Make me feel thy forrow's power,
That with thee I tears may shower,
Tender mother, fount of love!
Make my heart with love unceafing
Burn toward Christ the Lord, that pleasing
I may be to Him above.
Holy mother, this be granted,
That the slain one's wounds be planted
Firmly in my heart to bide.
Of Him wounded, all astounded—
Depths unbounded for me founded,
All the pangs with me divide.
Make me weep with thee in union;
With the Crucified, communion
In His grief and fuffering give;
Near the crofs with tears unfailing
I would join thee in thy wailing
Here as long as I mall live.
Maid of maidens, all excelling!
Be not bitter, me repelling,
Make thou me a mourner too;
Make me bear about Chrift's dying,
Share His passion, shame defying,
All His wounds in me renew.
Wound for wound be there created;
With the cross intoxicated
For thy Son's dear fake, I pray—
May I, fired with pure affection,
Virgin, have through thee protection
In the solemn Judgment Day.
Let me by the Cross be warded,
By the death of Christ be guarded,
Nourished by divine supplies.
When the body death hath riven,
Grant that to the foul be given
Glories bright of Paradise.