1 Jews were wrought to cruel madness,
Christians fled in fear and sadness,
Mary stood the cross beside.
2 At its foot her foot she planted,
By the dreadful scene undaunted,
Till the gentle sufferer died.
3 Poets oft have sung her story;
Painters decked her brow with glory;
Priests her name have deified;
4 But no worship, song, or glory,
Touches like that simple story, --
|Mary stood the cross beside.|
5 And when under fierce oppression
Goodness suffers like transgression,
Christ again is crucified.
6 But if love be there, true-hearted,
By no grief or terror parted,
Mary stands the cross beside.