STABAT MATER DOLOROSA

 
Stabat Mater Dolorosa is considered one of the seven greatest Latin hymns of all time. It is based upon the prophecy of Simeon that a sword was to pierce the heart of His mother, Mary (Lk 2:35). The hymn originated in the 13th century during the peak of Franciscan devotion to the crucified Jesus and has been attributed to Pope Innocent III (d. 1216), St. Bonaventure, or more commonly, Jacopone da Todi (1230-1306), who is considered by most to be the real author.

The hymn is often associated with the Stations of the Cross. In 1727 it was prescribed as a Sequence for the Mass of the Seven Sorrows of Mary (September 15) where it is still used today. In addition to this Mass, the hymn is also used for the Office of the Readings, Lauds, and Vespers for this memorial. There is a mirror image to this hymn, Stabat Mater speciosa, which echoes the joy of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the birth of Jesus.

 

 

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 has passed.


O how sad and sore distressed
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,
whelmed 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?


Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,
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 my Lord.


Holy Mother! pierce me through,
in my heart each wound renew
of my Savior 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 mourned 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 blest!,
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 swooned,
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 defense,
be Thy Cross my victory;


While my body here decays,

May my soul Thy goodness praise

Safe in Paradise with Thee

 

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