Stabat Mater: X. Fac ut portem Christi mortem

歌詞

Stabat mater dolorosa juxta Crucem lacrimosa, dum pendebat Filius. Cuius animam gementem, contristatam et dolentem pertransivit gladius. O quam tristis et afflicta fuit illa benedicta, mater Unigeniti! Quae moerebat et dolebat, pia Mater, dum videbat nati poenas 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 suae gentis vidit Iesum in tormentis, et flagellis subditum. Vidit suum dulcem Natum moriendo desolatum, dum emisit spiritum. 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, poenas 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 praeclara, mihi iam 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 iudicii. Christe, cum sit hinc exire, da per Matrem me venire ad palmam victoriae. Quando corpus morietur, fac, ut animae donetur paradisi gloria. Amen. At the Cross her station keeping, stood the mournful Mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last. Through her heart, His sorrow sharing, all His bitter anguish bearing, now at length the sword has passed. O how sad and sore distressed 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, whelmed in miseries so deep, Christ's dear Mother to behold? By the Cross with thee to stay, there with thee to weep and pray, is all I ask of thee to give. For the sins of His own nation, She saw Jesus wracked with torment, All with scourges rent: She beheld her tender Child, Saw Him hang in desolation, Till His spirit forth He sent. Can the human heart refrain from partaking in her pain, in that Mother's pain untold? 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 my Lord. Holy Mother! pierce me through, in my heart each wound renew of my Savior 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 mourned for me, all the days that I may live: Let me, to my latest breath, in my body bear the death of that dying Son of thine. Virgin of all virgins blest!, Listen to my fond request: let me share thy grief divine; Wounded with His every wound, steep my soul till it hath swooned, 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, by Thy Mother my defense, by Thy Cross my victory; When my body dies, let my soul be granted the glory of Paradise. Amen.