Stabat Mater
(The Mother Stood)
is the Sequence for the Mass of 15 September,
the Mass of the Seven Sorrows of The Blessed Virgin Mary.
It recounts The Blessed Virgin Mary's heartbreak on Good Friday,
when standing at the foot of the Cross,
whilst her Son, Jesus Christ, hung on that infamous gibbet.
At the Cross, her Station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.
Contristatam et dolentem,
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword had passed.
O quam tristis et afflicta,
Oh, how sad and sore distress'd,
Was that Mother, highly blest
Of the sole-begotten One !
Quae maerebat, et dolebat,
Christ above in torment hangs;
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son.
Quis est homo, qui non fleret,
Matrem Christi si videret
In tanto supplicio ?
Is there one who would not weep
Whelm'd in miseries so deep
Christ's dear Mother to behold ?
Quis non posset contristari,
Christi Matrem contemplari
Dolentem cum Filio ?
Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother's pain untold ?
Pro peccatis suae gentis
Vidit Jesum in tormentis
Et flagellis subditum.
Bruis'd, derided, curs'd, defil'd,
She beheld her tender child:
All with bloody scourges rent.
Vidit suum dulcem natum
Moriendo desolatum,
Dum emisit spiritum.
For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
'Til 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.
Sancta Mater, istud agas,
Holy Mother ! Pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
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.
Juxta crucem tecum stare,
By the Cross with thee to stay,
There with thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of thee to give.
Virgo virginum praeclara,
Virgin of all virgins best,
Listen to my fond request:
Let me share thy grief divine.
Fac ut portem Christi mortem,
Let me, to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of thine.
Fac me plagis vulnerati
Fac me cruce inebriari,
Et cruore Filii.
Wounded with his every wound,
Steep my soul 'til it hath swoon'd
Flammis ne urar succensus,
Per te, Virgo, sim defensus,
Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment Day.
Christe, cum sit hinc exire,
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defence,
While my body here decays,
May my Soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.
Amen. Alleluia.
