Lo, how a rose eer blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of jesses lineage coming
As men of old have sung
It came, a flowret 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 gods love aright,

She bore to men a saviour,
When half spent was the night.

O flowr, whose fragrance tender

With sweetness fills the air,
Dispel in glorious splendour
The darkness evry where.

True man, yet very god,

From sin and death now save us,
And share our evre load.