Near the Cross Was Mary Weeping

Near the cross was Ma­ry weep­ing

There her mourn­ful sta­tion keep­ing

Gazing on her dy­ing Son;

There in speech­less ang­uish groan­ing

Yearning

trem­bling

sigh­ing

moan­ing

Through her soul the sword had gone.

When no eye its pi­ty gave us

When there was no arm to save us

He His love and pow­er dis­played:

By His stripes He wrought our heal­ing

By His death

our life re­veal­ing

He for us the ran­som paid.

Jesus

may Thy love co­nstrain us

That from sin we may re­frain us

In Thy griefs may deep­ly grieve;

Thee our best affect­ions giv­ing

To Thy glo­ry ever liv­ing

May we in Thy glo­ry live.