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Near the cross was Mary weeping,
There her mournful station keeping,
Gazing on her dying Son;
There in speechless anguish groaning,
Yearning, trembling, sighing, moaning,
Through her soul the sword had gone.
What he for his people suffered,
Stripes, and scoffs, and insults offered,
His fond mother saw the whole:
Never from the scene retiring,
Till he bowed his head expiring,
And to God breathed out his soul.
But we have no need to borrow
Motives from the mother's sorrow,
At our Saviour's cross to mourn.
'Twas our sins brought him from heaven;
These the cruel nails had driven:
All his griefs for us were borne.
When no eye its pity gave us,
When there was no arm to save us,
He His love and power displayed:
By His stripes He wrought our healing,
By His death, our life revealing,
He for us the ransom paid.
Jesus, may Thy love constrain us,
That from sin we may refrain us,
In Thy griefs may deeply grieve;
Thee our best affections giving,
To Thy glory ever living,
May we in Thy glory live.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 7 8 8 7
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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13 cent, 1845
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Bible Refs:
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Lk 2:35;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1996 | # 294 | | 1899 | # 98 | | 1917 | # 314 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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STABAT MATER
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Meter:
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8 8 7 8 8 7
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 98 | F |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
