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.