God, whose might on high appears,
Who camest to this world
In human guise,
In this vale of many tears
And sullen fears
Thy great glory hast unfurled
Before our eyes.
And thy Son so delicate,
By His nature and His birth
From out the skies
See with blood and wounds so great
How grievous is His state,
For our infirmities
And littleworth !
O Ruler of the sky,
God of enduring power
And might,
Who for Thy creatures, men, to die,
Didst not deny
Thy Godhead in that hour
Infinite.
And Thy daughter, mother, bride,
Noble flower of the skies,
The Virgin blest.
Gentle dove, when her Son died,
When her God was crucified,
Ah, what tears her grief attest !
O precious tears that well
From that virgin heart, distilled
One by one!
Flowing they thy sorrow tell,
And those perfect eyes have filled,
And still flow on.
Ah, who but one might have,
In it manifestly
That grief to prove,
That woe and suffering grave
That such weeping brought to thee
For thy love.
Fainting with grief, it failed
Thy tears, yet might not fail
Thy Son, thy Life,
Who to the cross was nailed,
Fresh tears, that could avail
In prayer at strife.
For when thee thus fainting
He in His anguish saw
All lifeless,
More than all His suffering
Him did wring,
And pangs twofold from Him draw
Thy distress.
No words have ever told,
No prayer or litany wailed
Such grief and loss:
Our thought may not enfold
Nor thee behold,
As thou wert when He was nailed
Upon the cross !
To thee, O lovely face,
Wherein Heaven's beauty shone,
What woe was given
When the cross on high they place,
And, thereupon
Nailed, the Son of Heaven,
Even thy Son !
Then o'er their heads on high
He who eras thy delight
Came to thy sight,
Nailed so cruelly,
Thee standing by,
The Mother of Him who died
There crucified !
Frail Queen of Holiness,
Who would not weep to see
Thee thus o'erthrown,
Fainting and motionless,
Who dost uphold and bless
Our life alone !
Alto Deus maravilhoso
que o mundo visitaste
em carne humana
neste vale temeroso
e lacrimoso
tua glória nos mostraste
soberana.
E teu filho delicado
mimoso da divindade
e natureza
por todas partes chagado
e mui sangrado
pela nossa enfermidade
e vil fraqueza.
Ó imperador celeste
Deus alto mui poderoso
essencial
que pelo homem que fizeste
ofereceste
o teu estado glorioso
a ser mortal.
E tua filha, madre, esposa,
horta nobre, flor dos céus,
virgem Maria,
mansa pomba gloriosa.
Oh quam chorosa
[ ? ] quando [ ? ] o seu Deus
padecia.
Oh lágrimas preciosas
do virginal coração
estiladas
correntes das dores vossas
[xxx ...osas]
com os olhos da perfeição
derramadas.
Quem uma só pudera ver
vira claramente nela
aquela dor
aquela pena e padecer
[ xxx ...er]
com que choráveis donzela
vosso amor.
E quando vós amortecida
se lágrimas vos faltavam
não faltava
a vosso filho e vossa vida
[ xxx ...ida]
chorar as que lhe ficaram
de quando orava.
Porque muito mais sentia
pelos seus padecimentos
ver-vos tal
mais que quanto padecia
lhe doía
e dobrava seus tormentos
vosso mal.
Se se pudesse dizer
se se pudesse rezar
tanta dor
se se pudesse fazer
podermos ver
qual estáveis ao clavar
do redentor.
Ó formosa face bela
ó resplendor divinal
que sentistes
quando a cruz se pôs à vela
e posto nela
o filho celestial
que paristes.
Vendo por cima da gente
assomar vosso conforto
tão chagado
cravado tão cruelmente
e vós presente
vendo-vos ser mãe do morto
e justiçado?
Ó rainha delicada
santidade escurecida
quem não chora
em ver morta e debruçada
a advogada
a força de nossa vida.
[xxx ...ora]
