Say, Virgin, what sweet force was that,

Which from the Father's breast Drew forth his coeternal Son,

To be thy bosom's guest?

'Twas not thy guileless faith alone,

That lifted thee so high; "Twas not thy pure seraphic love,

Or peerless chastity:

But, oh! it was thy lowliness,
Well pleasing to the Lord,

That made thee worthy to become The Mother of the Word.

Oh, loftiest !-whose humility
So sweet it was to see!
That God, forgetful of himself,
Abas'd himself to thee!

Praise to the Father, with the Son, And Holy Ghost, through whom The Word eternal was conceiv'd Within the Virgin's womb.

Stabat Mater dolorosa, Juxta crucem lacrymosa, Dum pendebat Filius. Cujus animam gementem, Contristatam, et dolentem, Pertransivit gladius.

O quam tristis et afflicta
Fuit illa benedicta

Mater Unigeniti !
Quæ morebat, et dolebat,
Pia Mater dum videbat

Nati pœnas inclyti.

Quis est homo, qui non fleret,
Matrem Christi si videret

In tanto supplicio?
Quis non posset contristari,
Christi Matrem contemplari
Dolentem cum Filio?

Pro peccatis suæ gentis,
Vidit Jesum in tormentis,

Et flagellis subditum.
Vidit suum dulcem natum
Moriendo, desolatum,

Dum emisit spiritum.

At the cross her station keeping, Stood the mournful mother weep

ing,

Close to Jesus to the last: Through her heart, his sorrow sharing,

All his bitter anguish bearing, Now at length the sword had pass'd.

Oh, how sad and sore distress'd
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, Whelm'd 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? Bruis'd, derided, curs'd, defil'd, 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.

Eia Mater, fons amoris,
Me sentire vim doloris

Fac, ut tecum lugeam.
Fac ut ardeat cor meum

In amando Christum Deum, Ut sibi complaceam.

Sancta Mater, istud agas, Crucifixi fige plagas

Cordi meo valide. Tui Nati vulnerati, Tam dignati pro me pati,

Pœnas mecum divide.

Fac me tecum pie flere,
Crucifixo condolere,

Donec ego vixero.
Juxta crucem tecum stare,
Et me tibi sociare,

In planctu desidero.

Virgo virginum præclara,
Mihi jam non sis amara,

Fac me tecum plangere.
Fac ut portem Christi mortem,
Passionis fac consortem,
Et plagas recolere.

Fac me plagis vulnerari,
Fac me cruce inebriari,

Et cruore Filii.

Flammis ne urar succensus
Per te, Virgo, sim defensus

In die judicii.

Christe, cum sit hinc exire, Da per Matrem me venire

Ad palmam victoriæ. Quando corpus morietur, Fac ut animæ donetur

Paradisi gloria.

Amen.

O thou mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above,

Make my heart with thine ac

cord:

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 Saviour 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 mourn'd 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 best!
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 swoon'd

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 defence,

Be thy cross my victory; While my body here decays, May my soul thy goodness praise, Safe in paradise with thee.

Amen.

O Jesu! life-spring of the soul! The Father's pow'r, and glory bright!

Thee with the Angels we extol;

From thee they draw their life and light.

Thy thousand thousand hosts are spread,

Embattled o'er the azure sky; But Michael bears thy standard dread,

[high. And lifts the mighty cross on

He in that sign the rebel powers Did with their dragon prince expel;

And hurl'd them from the heav'n's high towers,

Down like a thunderbolt to hell.

Grant us with Michael still, O Lord,

Against the prince of pride to fight;

So may a crown be our reward, Before the Lamb's pure throne

of light.

Now to the Father and the Son, Who rose from death, all glory be;

With thee, O holy Comforter, Henceforth through all eternity.

[Within the Octave of the Ascension.]

Glory to Jesus, who returns

In pomp triumphant to the sky, With thee, O Father, and with thee, O Holy Ghost, eternally.

Hac die lætus meruit beatas

Scandere sedes.

This day went up with joy, his

labours o'er,

To his blest seat in light.

Laudis honores.

This day receives those honours which are his,

High in the realms of light.

cus,

Sobriam duxit sine labe vitam,

Donec humanos animavit auræ Spiritus artus.

ways;

Sweet, temperate, unstain'd; His life was prayer, his every breath was praise,

While breath to him remain'd.