Stabat Mater.

[It is scarcely necessary to state that this well-known hymn is translated in
deference to its poetical merits, not to its doctrine.]
Stood the maiden Mother weeping,1
By the Cross her sad watch keeping,2
Near her dying Son and Lord ;3
Woes wherewith the heart is broken,4
Sorrows never to be spoken,5
Smote her, pierced her like a sword.6
O with what vast griefs oppressèd7
Bow’d the more than woman blessèd,8
Mother of God’s only Son !9
O what bitterness came o’er her,10
When the dread doom pass’d before her,11
Seeing her Beloved undone !12
Say, can any stand by tearless,13
When so woe-begone and cheerless14
Mourns the Virgin undefiled,15
Or the rising anguish smother,16
When he sees the tenderest mother17
Suffer with her suffering Child ?18
Sacrifice for sins presented,19
Jesus she beheld tormented,20
For her people scourged and slain ;21
In his hour of desolation,22
In the spirit’s separation,23
She beheld her dear One’s pain.24
Love’s pure fountain, let me borrow25
From thine anguish sense of sorrow ;26
Make me, Mother, mourn with thee ;27
Be my heart’s best offerings given28
Evermore to Christ in heaven ;29
Let me his true servant be !30
Holy Mother, draw me, win me ;31
Plant the Crucified within me ;32
Brand His wounds upon my heart !33
For my sake thy Child was stricken :34
With His blood my spirit quicken ;35
Half His agonies impart !36
Let me feel thy sore affliction,37
And my Master’s crucifixion38
Share, till life’s last dawn appears ;39
So, with thee His cross frequenting,40
Daily would I kneel repenting,41
Meek companion of thy tears.42
Virgin-queen, renown’d for ever,43
Not from me thy sweetness sever ;44
Bid me drink thy sorrow’s cup,45
Till my sympathizing spirit46
All Christ’s bitter pangs inherit,47
All His bleeding wounds count up.48
Pierce me with my Saviour’s piercings,49
Let me taste the cross and cursings,50
And for love the wine-press tread !51
Through thy kindling inspiration,52
Virgin, let me find salvation53
In the doom of quick and dead !54
Let Christ’s guardian cross attend me,55
And His saving death defend me56
Cradled in His arms of love !57
When the body sleeps forsaken,58
Mother, let my soul awaken59
In God’s Paradise above !60
[In our last Number, a previous translation of the Dies Iræ was ascribed, by a
misprint, to “ Dr. Norris,” instead of to the Rev. W. J. Irons, D.D.]