1. Lo, how a Rose, e'er blooming, From tender stem hath sprung,
Of Jesse's lineage coming As seers of old have sung;
It came, a blossom bright,
Amid the cold of winter When half-spent was the night.

2. O Flow'r, whose fragrance tender With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel in glorious splendour The darkness ev'rywhere;
True man, yet very God,
From sin and death now save us And share our ev'ry load.

3. 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 Saviour When halfspent was the night.