O! all ye that pass by the way, attend and see if there be sorrow like unto my sorrow.
(Lam, i. 12)


All they that passed by the way have clapped their hands at thee. They have hissed and wagged their heads at the daughter of Jerusalem.
(Lam, ii. 15)





Hear me, all good Christian souls, passing by the way
When did ever woman grieve like unto me!
See me how I weep and mourn,
How my mother’s heart is torn,
Whene’er I think of my firstborn—
Jesus my Son.

When amid the winter snows, at the midnight hour,
In the stall of Bethlehem, Jesus I bore,
God alone could truly know
How my troubled soul would flow
With grief, to see mine infant's woe—
Jesus my Son.

What a load of anxious thoughts on my heart did lay,
As I watched my gentle child day after day,
Living poor at Nazareth,
Suffering to His last drawn breath,
His passion and His cruel death
Jesus my Son.

When I saw His bitter wounds, in their sad array—
Him I loved so tenderly passing away,
How I tossed upon a sea
Of unceasing misery:
For what was all the world to me!
Jesus my Son.

When at last this anguish deep had in part gone by,
Sterner strokes were yet to come, ‘ere I could die:
Evil deeds that men would do,
Guilt and crimes that must ensue,
All this I saw with steadfast view—
Jesus my Son.

Oh, what sorrow rent my heart none can ever say,
When in thought I viewed the world, far far away:
Sins of pride and blasphemy,
Sins against sweet purity,
In hideous forms disclosed to me—
Jesus my Son.

Hear me all good Christian souls passing by the way—
Saw ye ever mother grieve like unto me!
Wicked men my heart would break,
Still to heaven one prayer I make,
Oh spare them for Thy mother’s sake—
Jesus my Son.


 Taken from: Manual of the Confraternity of La Salette, by Rev. John Wyse (Catholic Priest), 1855

Pray for us Oh Virgin Most Sorrowful, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ!