- Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming
As prophets long have sung.
It came, a Flower bright,
Amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.
- Isaiah hath 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 us a Saviour,
When half spent was the night.
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- O Flower, Whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air.
Dispel in glorious splendor
The darkness ev'rywhere;
True man, yet very God,
From sin and death now save us,
And share our ev'ry load.
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