022 - At the cross, her station keeping
1. At the cross, her station keeping, 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. Oh, 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. Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled, she beheld her tender Child, all with bloody scourges rent.
8. For the sins of his own nation saw him hang in desolation till his spirit forth he sent.
9. O sweet mother! font of love, touch my spirit from above, make my heart with yours accord.
10. Make me feel as you have felt; make my soul to glow and melt with the love of Christ, my Lord.