Prayer to the Mother of Sorrows
Oh mother most afflicted, you have experienced sorrow from the moment you consented to be the mother of our Redeemer, and the holy man Simeon told you that a sword would pierce your heat,. With pain and anguish you followed your Son on his way to Calvary, and saw him die on the cross. There was courage and resignation of Spirit in your heart as you held the dead-body of your Son in your lap before his burial.
Oh mother most afflicted, as we, your children, meditate today on your life, pierced with sword of sorrow, we pray that through your intercession, we obtain a spirit of courage and acceptance to bear the pains and sorrows that come into our life. (Pause here to make your specific intention)
May your life, oh mother of sorrows, be an inspiration to us and be with us always. We make this prayer through your son and our Redeemer. Amen.
Compiled by Fr. Reginald D’Souza msfs
Hymns to Sorrowful Mother
OH MOTHER MOST AFFLICTED
Oh Mother most afflicted,
Standing beneath the tree
Where Jesus stands rejected
On the hill of Calvary
O Mary sweetest Mother,
We love to pity thee.
O for the sake of Jesus
Let us thy children be.
The heart is well nigh breaking
Thy Jesus thus to see
Derided, wounded, dying,
In greatest agony.
WHAT A SEA OF TEARS AND SORROWS
What a sea of tears and sorrows did the soul of Mary toss,
To and fro upon its' billows, while she wept her bitter loss;
In her arms her Jesus holding, torn so newly from the Cross.
Oh that mournful Virgin Mother, see her tears how fast they flow
Down upon His mangled Body, wounded Side and thorny Brow,
While His Hands and Feet she kisses, picture of immortal woe.
O COME AND MOURN WITH ME
O come and mourn with me awhile;
See Mary calls us to her side;
Oh, come and let us mourn with her,
Jesus, our Love, is crucified.
Have we no tears to shed for Him,
While soldiers scoff and Jews deride?
Ah! look how patiently He hangs,
Jesus, our Love, is crucified.
Come, take thy stand beneath the Cross,
And let the Blood from out that Side
Fall gently on thee drop by drop;
Jesus, our Love, is crucified.
OUR MOTHER OF SORROWS
Our Lady, who is full of grace,
Stood in anguish at her place;
Stood erect beneath the Cross,
Close to Him Who died for us.
What must we, the guilty feel,
As beside the Cross we kneel?
Ours the voices of the foe;
Ours the hands that struck the blow.
Help us, Mary, full of grace,
To look upon His suffering Face;
Then may we closer to thee move,
And learn to look upon His love.
I CAN SCARCELY SEE THEE, JESUS
I can scarcely see Thee, Jesus,
For the tears that fill my eyes,
When I know on Calv'ry hanging
My dear Savior for me dies.
Ah, why not the Victim changing;
Why not I, the sinner, bleed?
Mine the sin, my dearest Savior;
Mine, yes mine, the wicked deed.
Gazing on Thy Cross so lowly,
I see there Thy Hands and Feet,
Torn by cruel nails and bleeding;
Who could Jesus so mistreat?
Whence the thorns Thy Head encircling;
Whence the spear that pierced Thy Side?
All one bleeding wound the Body
Of my Jesus Crucified.
All my sins have made me guilty
Of the torments Thou didst bear;
Let my love and service henceforth
All my wicked life repair.
In Thy Death my hopes reposing,
On Thy love my soul relies;
Let me suffer with Thee, Jesus,
That with Thee I may arise.
AT THE CROSS HER STATION KEEPING
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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 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.
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 our 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 Judgement 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.