Such vigorous life ne’re moved your steps before,
But here they sunk beneath the weight they bore.
Princes we more than human do allow,
You must have been above an angel too,
Had you resisted this sad scene of woe;
So the blessed virgin at the world’s great loss,
Came, and beheld, then fainted at the cross.
Methinks I see you like the queen of heaven,
To whom all patience and all grace was given;
When the great Lord of life Himself was laid
Upon her lap, all wounded, pale, and dead;
Transpierced with anguish, even to death transformed,
So she bewailed her God! so sighed, so mourned;
So His blessed image in her heart remained,
So His blessed memory o’re her soul still reigned!
She lived the sacred victim to deplore,
And never knew, or wished a pleasure more.
