The words are attributed to Mother Cecilia C of the Brigidine convent in Kilkenny, Ireland,
in around 1911 (ref). There are many variations in the first words of the 2nd and 4th verses, including "Sancte Maria", "Sweet St Brigid", "Holy Mother", and "Sancte Mater" - the latter is used in the slides and lyrics below.
An Irish-language translation, Duan Bhríde - Dearc Anuas, was made by Irish academic, linguist and scholar, Douglas Ross Hyde (An Craoibhín Aoibhinn (1860–1949). This was published in the Confraternity Hymn Book, 1959, Belfast. Lyrics are currently available here.
The original tune is attributed to Cecilia Sinnott (1863-1902) Brigidine Sisters, Goresbridge Convent (ref). Today, however, it is usually sung to the tune PICARDY - also used for Let all Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.
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| Image from Wikipedia |
Downloads
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Examples
Singer with classical guitar - mixed with Let All Moral Flesh
Soloist with organ
Choir arrangement, unaccompanied
Instrumental - professional recording
Lyrics
Original version in English
Far above enthroned in glory
Sweetest Saint of Erin’s Isle
See thy children kneel before thee
Turn on us a Mother’s smile.
Sancta Mater, hear our pleading
Faith and hope and holy love
Sweet St Brigid, spouse of Jesus,
Sent to us from Heaven above.
Sweet St Brigid, Erin’s children,
Far and near o’er land and sea
In the world and in the cloister
Fondly turn with love to thee.
Sancta Mater, sooth the mourner
Shield the weary tempted soul
Sweet St Brigid, guide thy children
To thy bright and happy home.
Sweetest Saint of Erin’s Isle
See thy children kneel before thee
Turn on us a Mother’s smile.
Sancta Mater, hear our pleading
Faith and hope and holy love
Sweet St Brigid, spouse of Jesus,
Sent to us from Heaven above.
Sweet St Brigid, Erin’s children,
Far and near o’er land and sea
In the world and in the cloister
Fondly turn with love to thee.
Sancta Mater, sooth the mourner
Shield the weary tempted soul
Sweet St Brigid, guide thy children
To thy bright and happy home.
Irish-language translation
Dearc anuas, féach mar táimid;
A naoimh álainn, féach sinn.
Feacamid ár nglún id láthair;
Dearc mar mháthair ar do chlainn.
Cuidigh linn, a mháthair aoibhinn;
Bí a choíche ag éisteacht linn.
A Naoimh Bríd, a chéile Chríosta,
Mar an fhaoileann ar an toinn.
Níl aon áit a bhfuil na Gaela
Ar an tsaol seo abhus nó thall,
Nach bfuil grá acu ina gcroíthe
Ortsa, a Bhríd gheal, moch is mall.
Líon le grá an croí atá brúite,
Bain den tsúil atá fliuch an deor;
Stiúraigh, treoraigh, ardaigh sinne.
Nó go dtigimid i do ghlóir.
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