The Treasury Of Sacred Song

By Francis Turner Palgrave

CCLVII When our heads are bow'd with woe,

When our bitter tears o'erflow;

When we mourn the lost, the dear,

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!

Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn,

Thou our mortal griefs hast borne,

Thou hast shed the human tear:

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!

When the sullen death-bell tolls

For our own departed souls;

When our final doom is near,

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!

Thou hast bow'd the dying head;

Thou the blood of life hast shed;

Thou hast fill'd a mortal bier:

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!

When the heart is sad within

With the thought of all its sin;

When the spirit shrinks with fear,

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!

Thou the shame, the grief hast known,

Though the sins were not Thine own;

Thou hast deign'd their load to bear --

Gracious Son of Mary, hear!