STABAT MATER DOLOROSA. [A Latin poem, written in the thirteenth century by JACOPONE, a Franciscan friar, of Umbria. Of this and the two preceding poems Dr. Neale says: "The De Contemptu is the most lovely, the Dies Ira the most sublime, and the Stabat Mater the most pathetic, of mediæval poems."] STABAT Mater dolorosa Juxta crucem lacrymosa, Dum pendebat filius; Cujus animam gementem, Contristatam et dolentem, Pertransivit gladius. O quam tristis et afflicta, Mater unigeniti, Nati pœnas inclyti! Quis est homo qui non fleret, Christi matrem si videret In tanto supplicio ? Quis non posset contristari Piam matrem contemplari Dolentem cum filio? Pro peccatis suæ gentis, Dum emisit spiritum. Eia mater, fons amoris, Fac, ut tecum lugeam. Sancta Mater, istud agas, Cordi meo valide. Tui nati vulnerati, Fac me vere tecum flere, Donec ego vixero; Juxta crucem tecum stare, Et tibi me sociare In planctu desidero. Virgo virginum præclara, Fac me tecum plangere ; Fac ut portem Christi mortem, Passionis fac consortem, Et plagas recolere. 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 Who the man, who, called a brother, For his people's sins atoning, Yield his spirit up to God. Make me feel thy sorrow's power, Holy mother, this be granted, Firmly in my heart to bide. Of him wounded, all astounded 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! Make thou me a mourner too; Make me bear about Christ's dying, Share his passion, shame defying; All his wounds in me renew. [This hymn was written in the tenth century by ROBERT II., the gentle son of HUGH CAPET. It is often mentioned as second in rank to the Dies Ira.] VENI, Sancte Spiritus, Et emitte cœlitus Veni, pater pauperum, In labore requies, O lux beatissima! Reple cordis intima, Tuorum fidelium. Sine tuo numine, Nihil est in homine, Nihil est innoxium. Lava quod est sordidum, Riga quod est aridum, Sana quod est saucium. Flecte quod est rigidum, Da tuis fidelibus, Da virtutis meritum, ROBERT II. OF FRANCE COME, Holy Ghost! thou fire divine! From highest heaven on us down shine! Comforter, be thy comfort mine! Come, Father of the poor, to earth; Come, with thy gifts of precious worth ; Come, Light of all of mortal birth! Thou rich in comfort! Ever blest Come, thou in whom our toil is sweet, Before whom mourning flieth fleet. Bright Sun of Grace! thy sunshine dart Whate'er without thy aid is wrought, O cleanse us that we sin no more, Thy will be ours in all our ways; O melt the frozen with thy rays; Call home the lost in error's maze. And grant us, Lord, who cry to thee, Thy precious gifts of charity; That we may live in holiness, CATHARINE WINKWORTH. VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS. This hymn, one of the most important in the service of the Latin Church, has been sometimes attributed to the EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. The better opinion, however, inclines to POP GREGORY 1., called the Great, as the author, and fixes its origin somewhere in the sixth century.] THE HOLY SPIRIT. IN the hour of my distress, When I lie within my bed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When the house doth sigh and weep, When the artless doctor sees Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the passing-bell doth toll, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the priest his last hath prayed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When, God knows, I'm tost about Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tempter me pursu'th Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the flames and hellish cries Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, And all terrors me surprise, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the judgment is revealed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! ROBERT HERRICK. |