Catholic Hymns, and lots of them!

Hold on to your hats as you gaze at this wonder. It is Hymns of the Breviary and Missal, edited by Matthew Britt (1922). It is also available in print.

I haven't counted them but there are lots of them, all sorted by Psalter and Missal, in Latin and English. Incredible poetry. Unbelievably inspiring. What modern composers might do with this!

It really is a window into the past, and underscores why we refer to our musical heritage as a treasure of inestimable value. I find myself wondering why we know some but not others, why some retain a bit of resonance and others are completely unfamiliar (at least to me). Of course I want to hear them all (alas, no music). The editor provides very helpful historical commentary and discussion of the place of each hymn in the liturgy.

Consider the beauty:

O QUOT undis lacrimarum,
Quo dolore volvitur,
Luctuosa de cruento
Dum, revulsum stipite,
Cernit ulnis incubantem
Virgo Mater filium!

Os suave, mite pectus,
Et latus dulcissimum,
Dexteramque vulneratam,
Et sinistram sauciam,
Et rubras cruore plantas
Aegra tingit lacrimis.

Centiesque milliesque
Stringit arctis nexibus
Pectus illud, et lacertos,
Ilia figit vulnera:
Sicque tota colliquescit
In doloris osculis.

Eja Mater, obsecramus
Per tuas has lacrimas,
Filiique triste funus,
Vulnerumque purpuram,
Hunc tui cordis dolorem
Conde nostris cordibus.

Esto Patri, Filioque,
Et coaevo Flamini,
Esto summse Trinitati
Sempiterna gloria,
Et perennis laus, honorque
Hoc, et omni saeculo.

WHAT a sea of tears and sorrow
Did the soul of Mary toss
To and fro upon its billows,
While she wept her bitter loss;
In her arms her Jesus holding,
Torn so newly from the Cross.

Oh, that mournful Virgin-Mother!
See her tears how fast they flow
Down upon His mangled body,
Wounded side, and thorny brow;
While His hands and feet she kisses—
Picture of immortal woe.

Oft and oft His arms and bosom
Fondly straining to her own;
Oft her pallid lips imprinting
On each wound of her dear Son;
Till at last, in swoons of anguish,
Sense and consciousness are gone.

Gentle Mother, we beseech thee
By thy tears and troubles sore;
By the death of thy dear Offspring
By the bloody wounds He bore;
Touch our hearts with that true sorrow
Which afflicted thee of yore.

To the Father everlasting,
And the Son who reigns on high,
With the co-eternal Spirit,
Trinity in Unity,
Be salvation, honor, blessing
Now and through eternity.