1. At the cross her station, stood the mournful mother weeping,
close to Jesus to the last.

2. Through her heart, His sorrow sharing, all His bitter anguish bearing,
now at length the sword had passed.

3. O, how sad and sore distressed was that Mother, highly blessed,
of the sole-begotten One!

4. Christ above in torment hangs, she beneath beholds the pangs
of her dying glorious Son.

5. Is there one who would not weep, whelmed in miseries so deep,
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

6. Can the human heart refrain from partaking in her pain
in that Mother’s pain untold?

7. For the sins of His own nation, she saw Jesus wracked with torment
all with scourges rent.

8. She beheld her tender Child, saw Him hand in desolation
‘til His spirit forth He sent.

9. O thou Mother! Font of love! Touch my spirit from above;
Make my heart with thine accord.

10. Make me feel as thou hast felt; Make my soul to glow and melt
with the love of Christ our Lord.

11. Holy Mother! Pierce me through; in my heart each wound renew
of my Savior crucified.

12. Let me share with thee His pain, Who for all my sins was slain, Who for me in torments died.

13. Let me mingle tears with thee, mourning Him who mourned for me,
all the days that I may live.

14. By the cross with thee to stay, there with thee to weep and pray,
is all I ask thee to give.