Lo how a rose e’er blooming, from tender stem hath sprung! Of Jesse’s lineage coming, as prophets long have sung. It came, a flow’ret bright, amid the cold of winter, when half-spent was the night.
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 us a Savior, when half-spent was the night.
O Flow’r, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air. Dispel in glorious splendor the darkness ev’ry-where: True man, yet very God, from sin and death now save us, and share our ev’ry load.
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 us a Savior, when half-spent was the night.
O Flow’r, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air. Dispel in glorious splendor the darkness ev’ry-where: True man, yet very God, from sin and death now save us, and share our ev’ry load.
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