1 Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming
From tender stem has 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.

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 the world a Savior
When half spent was the night.

3 O Flow'r, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel with glorious splendor
The darkness ev'rywhere.
True Man, yet very God,
From sin and death now save us
And lighten ev'ry load.