At the Cross Her station keeping

We were going to post another hymn today, but, in view of recent events at Notre Dame de Paris…

At the cross her station keeping
stood the mournful Mother weeping,
where he hung, the dying Lord;
for her soul, of joy bereavèd,
bowed with anguish, deeply grieved,
felt the sharp and piercing sword.

2 O how sad and sore distressèd
now was she, that Mother blessèd
of the sole-begotten one!
Deep the woe of her affliction,
when she saw the crucifixion
of her ever-glorious Son.

3 Who, on Christ’s dear Mother gazing
pierced by anguish so amazing,
born of woman, would not weep?
Who, on Christ’s dear Mother thinking
such a cup of sorrow drinking,
would not share her sorrows deep?

4 For his people’s sins chastised,
she beheld her Son despised,
scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined;
saw him then from judgement taken,
and in death by all forsaken,
till his spirit he resigned.

5 O good Jesu, let me borrow
something of thy Mother’s sorrow,
fount of love, Redeemer kind,
that my heart fresh ardour gaining,
and a purer love attaining,
may with thee acceptance find.

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