1
Lo, how a rose e'er bloo-ming
from ten-der stem hath sprung!
Of Jes-se's line-age com-ing,
as men of old have sung.
It came, a flower-et bri-ght,
a-mid the cold of win-ter,
When half spent was the night.
2
Isaiah 'twas fore-told it,
the rose I have in mind;
With Ma-ry we be-hold it,
the vir-gin moth-er kind.
To show God's love aright,
she bore to men a Savior,
When half spent was the night.
3
This flower, whose frag-rance tender
with sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor
the darkness everywhere;
True man, yet very God,
from sin and death He saves us,
And lightens every load.
4
O Savior, child of Mary,
who felt our human woe,
O Savior, King of glory,
who dost our weakness know;
Bring us at length we pray,
to the bright courts of Heaven,
And to the endless day!
Lo, how a rose e'er blooming