LO, HOW A ROSE E’RE BLOOMING

Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming from tender stem has sprung!
Of Jesse’s lineage coming as saints of old have sung.
It came a flow’ret bright, amid the cold of winter,
When half-spent was the night.

Isaiah ‘twas foretold it, the Rose I have in mind.
With Mary we behold it, the virgin mother kind.
To show God’s love a-right, she bore to us a Saviour,
When half-spent was the night.

Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
Dispel in glorious splendour gloom and grief ev’rywhere.
True man, yet very God, from sin and death he saves us,
And lightens ev’ry load.