Lo! How a Rose e're blooming,

From tender stem hath sprung,

Of Jesse's lineage coming

As those of old have sung



It came, a flowerth bright,

Amid the cold of winter

When half-spent was the night



Isaiah twice foretold it,

The Rose I have in mind

And so then 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