1 Lo, how a rose e'er blooming
from tender stem hath sprung;
of Jesse's lineage coming,
by faithful prophets sung.
It came, a floweret bright,
amid the cold of winter
when half spent was the night.
2 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 for us a Savior
when half spent was the night.
