Stabat Mater Dolorosa
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 had pass'd.
Oh, how sad and sore distress'd
Was that Mother highly blest
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,
Whelm'd 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?
Bruis'd, derided, curs'd, defil'd,
She beheld her tender child
All with bloody scourges rent.
For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
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 mourn'd for me,
All the days that I may live.
By the cross with thee to stay,
There with thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of thee to give.
Virgin of all virgins best,
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 swoon'd
In His very blood away.
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment day.
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defence,
Be Thy cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.
Excerpt From MMP : To The Priests, Our Lady’s Beloved Sons
# 470 Let Us Adore Jesus Crucified [pp 720-721]
“. . . It is my Son Jesus who, today, dies on the Cross, conceived in my virginal womb, formed for nine months in preparation for his human birth, nourished with my flesh and my very own blood. . .
Look, with me, at his body, completely reduced to one single wound by the terrible scourging; his face, disfigured with blood which runs down from his head, pierced by the crown of thorns; his wounded shoulders which support with great effort the wood of his gibbet. Feel, in your heart, with me, the terrible blows of the nails, which pierce hos hands and his feet; the thud of the Cross into the ground, which causes Him to start with renewed pain, the moans of his bloody agony; his last breath which He breathes forth at the moment of his death on the Cross.
It is my Son who dies, close to me, his afflicted Mother, who opens her Heart to receive you all into the sorrowful cradle of her new and universal motherhood.
Jesus Crucified is your Redeemer and Savior. Today the purpose of his entire life is fulfilled, and the Will of the Father is carried out to complete perfection, because He immolates Himself as a victim for your salvation.
Look, today, with love and with immense gratitude, in a spirit of joy and consolation, upon Him whom they have pierced. He is the true Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world; He is the High Priest who enters once and for all into the sanctuary to obtain for you, with his Blood, an eternal redemption.
He is your Pasch : the Bridge which makes it possible for you to pass from sin to grace, from death to life, from slavery to freedom. He is your Brother who takes you by the hand and leads you to be true sons of God.