Parerga/Margaret's Prayer to the Mater Dolorosa

MARGARET'S PRAYER TO THE MATER DOLOROSA.

FROM GÖTHE'S FAUST.

Ach neige
Du Schmerzenreiche.

Oh bend thy face,
Thou rich in agonies!
Oh look with grace
On my necessities!

The sword is in thy heart,
With thousand pangs its fibres part;
Thy Son before thine eyes is dying;
Thou to the Father lookest sighing,
Heaven's aid for Him and thee
Praying in thine agony.

Oh, who can tell
The pangs that rack each bone?
Oh, who can feel
For all by this poor bosom undergone?
What tremblings chill it,
What passions thrill it,
Thou knowest only, Thou alone.
Woe, woe!
Where'er I go,
Woe fills this bosom dull and deep;
Scarce am I left alone ere flow
The bitter streams. I weep, I weep!
Forlorn and aching
I feel the heart within me breaking.

I cull'd at dawn for Thee these flowers
From stems around my casement creeping,
They were water'd with the showers
Of my helpless hopeless weeping.

Through the chamber bright and red
Shone the sunbeams in on me,
Where already up in bed
Sate I in my misery.

Oh, save me! save
From shame, and from the grave!
Oh, bend thy face,
Thou rich in agonies!
Oh, look with grace
On my necessities!