1 Lo, how a rose e'er blooming from tender stem hath sprung,
of Jesse's lineage coming by faithful prophets 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 for us a Savior
when half spent was the night.

3 O flow'r whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
dispels with glorious splendor the darkness ev'rywhere.
Human, yet very God, from sin and death he saves us
and shares our ev'ry load.