1 At the cross, her vigil keeping
stood the mournful Mother weeping
where he hung, the dying Lord;

2 through her soul of joy bereavèd,
bowed with sorrow, deeply grievèd,
passed the sharp and piercing sword.

3 Who upon that mother gazing,
in her anguish so amazing,
born of woman, would not weep?

4 Who, of Christ's dear Mother thinking
while her son that cup is drinking,
would not share her sorrow deep?

5 For his people's sins chastisèd
she beheld her Son despisèd
scourged, and crowned with thorns entwined,

6 saw him then from judgement taken,
and in death by all forsaken,
till his spirit he resigned.

7 Near your cross, O Christ, abiding,
grief and love my heart dividing,
I with her would take my place:

8 by your saving cross uphold me,
in your dying, Christ, enfold me,
with the deathless arms of grace.