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 O Mother most desolate, and I humbly beseech thee be with me in the dread hour of judgment, when I am overwhelmed with the accusations of the devil; and drive far from me then all mine enemies. Amen.

Most desolate Virgin Mary, I recall to thy mind now that sword of sorrow which pierced through thy heart, when thou didst behold thy Son raised high upon his cross, and fastened thereunto with three nails. O most sorrowful Mother, how was it that thy soul was not utterly crushed down and wrenched from thy body? How could it be that thine eyes did not fail for tears? Oh, remember now the sadness which filled thy heart when thou didst behold him blasphemed, mocked with vinegar and gall in his thirst, reputed viler and treated more ruthlessly than the very robbers. Remember thine ineffable anguish when thou didst see him fail and sink beneath his impetuous love and sorrow, his lips grow pale, his limbs quiver, his eyes glazed and dim; until at length his heart broke with a mighty pang, and with a loud cry he gave up the ghost. By these thy surpassing sorrows, O Mother most desolate, and by all thy groanings and tears, I beseech thee, be with me with the same love when I draw my last breath, when my heart shall break in the agony of death; and deign to receive my