Oh woman of the seven sorrows,
My mother and my queen,
Wash me in your hallowed tears.
Anoint me in your victory.
Grant to me, the sword of mercy,
And your mantel of simplicity.
Break the chains that keep me in sins, which are as death,
And crown me in your sacrificial love.
For once, I was a fool and walked after my own lusts,
And by the graces of your son, our Lord, was I redeemed.
Come swiftly to assist me in my stumbling here.
Come to my aid, good lady, and shelter me.
For though I was raised out of the pit,
I recognize my faults, my faults, my most grievous faults,
And beg you, as a child renewed by grace,
To carry my cries of petition to your son, Our King,
That every wound might be mended and every transgression made clean,
That the blemishes of a thousand errors,
May be paid in full, by this meek offering,
That I might acquire the fruits of heaven,
And the fullness of your eternal smile,
That I might sing with your sons’ Holy Angels,
And may be troubled at heart, no more.