Lo, how a rose e'er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of jesse's lineage coming
As men of old have sung
It came, a flow'ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter
When half spent was the light.
Isaiah 'twas foretold it
The rose I have in mind,
With mary we behold it,
The virgin mother kind.
To show god's love aright,
She bore to men a saviour,
When half spent was the night.
O flow'r, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel in glorious splendour
The darkness ev'ry where.
True man, yet very god,
From sin and d**h now save us,
And share our ev're load.