Open main menu

Lyra Ecclesiastica/First Series/Pope Innocent the Third's Hymn on the Crucifixion

For other English-language translations of this work, see Stabat Mater Dolorosa.

POPE INNOCENT THE THIRD'S HYMN ON THE CRUCIFIXION.

See the Mother stands deploring,
By the Cross her tears out-pouring,
Where her son expiring hangs.
For her gentle spirit groaning.
Anguish-smitten and bemoaning
Rend the sword's most cruel pangs.

O! how downcast and distresséd
Was the Mother ever-blesséd
Of the sole-begotten One,
Who lamented and who grievéd,
Mother mild, as she perceivéd
Torments rack her heav'nly Son.

Who could keep from tears of anguish,
Could he see Christ's Mother languish
Thus in grief and suffering wild?
Who his agony could smother,
Could he see the gentle Mother
Sorrowing with her holy child?

For His people sacrificéd
She beheld Christ agonizéd,
And beneath the scourger's rod,—
She beheld her off-spring blesséd
Die forsaken and distresséd
As He gave His soul to God.

Grant, O! Mother, love's out-springing,
Me to feel thy sorrows wringing,
Bid me share thy cup of woe:
Make my heart for ever fervent,
Christ my God's adoring servant.
That his pleasure I may do.

Bid me bear, O! Mother blesséd,
On my heart the wounds impresséd
Suffered by the crucified;
And thy Son's most bitter passion,
Backed in so remorseless fashion
All for me, with me divide.

With Thee weeping in communion,
With the Crucified in union,
Long as life within me plays.
By the Cross with Thee remaining,
Joined with Thee in grief and plaining;
Such the boon thy servant prays.

Queen of Virgins heav'n-adornéd,
Let me not of Thee be scornéd,
Let me share thy grief and woe.
Jesus' death my study making,
In His agony partaking
Make me all His tortures know.

All His bitter torments feeling,
In the cross my spirit reeling,
In His blood my senses drown;
That all glowing with affection
I may find in Thee protection
When to judgement He comes down.

In the Cross salvation yield me,
And in Jesus' passion shield me,
Cherish me with mercy's aid.
When my earthly frame shall perish,
Grant around my soul to flourish
Eden's joys that never fade. Amen.