Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, STABAT MATER DOLOROSA, by JACOPONE DA TODI



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
STABAT MATER DOLOROSA, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Stood the afflicted mother weeping
Last Line: Glories bright of paradise.
Alternate Author Name(s): Jacopo Dei Benedeti; Bebedetti, Jacopo
Subject(s): Mary. Mother Of Jesus; Religion; Women In The Bible; Virgin Mary; Theology


STOOD the afflicted mother weeping,
Near the cross her station keeping
Whereon hung her Son and Lord;
Through whose spirit sympathizing,
Sorrowing and agonizing,
Also passed the cruel sword.

Oh! how mournful and distressed
Was that favored and most blessed
Mother of the only Son,
Trembling, grieving, bosom heaving,
While perceiving, scarce believing,
Pain of that Illustrious One!

Who the man, who, called a brother,
Would not weep, saw he Christ's mother
In such deep distress and wild?
Who could not sad tribute render
Witnessing that mother tender
Agonizing with her child?

For his people's sins atoning,
Him she saw in torments groaning,
Given to the scourger's rod;
Saw her darling offspring dying,
Desolate, forsaken, crying
Yield his spirit up to God.

Make me feel thy sorrow's power,
That with thee I tears may shower,
Tender mother, fount of love!
Make my heart with love unceasing
Burn toward Christ the Lord, that pleasing
I may be to him above.

Holy mother, this be granted,
That the slain one's wounds be planted
Firmly in my heart to bide.
Of him wounded, all astounded --
Depths unbounded for me sounded --
All the pangs with me divide.

Make me weep with thee in union;
With the Crucified, communion
In his grief and suffering give;
Near the cross, with tears unfailing,
I would join thee in thy wailing
Here as long as I shall live.

Maid of maidens, all excelling!
Be not bitter, me repelling;
Make thou me a mourner too;
Make me bear about Christ's dying,
Share his passion, shame defying;
All his wounds in me renew.

Wound for wound be there created;
With the cross intoxicated
For thy Son's dear sake, I pray --
May I, fired with pure affection,
Virgin, have through thee protection
In the solemn Judgment Day.

Let me by the cross be warded,
By the death of Christ be guarded,
Nourished by divine supplies.
When the body death hath riven,
Grant that to the soul be given
Glories bright of Paradise.




Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net