1.	Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming 
	from tender stem hath sprung! 
	Of Jesse's lineage coming, 
	as those of old have sung. 
	It came, a floweret 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 to us a Savior, 
	when half spent was the night. 

3.	[Subject to copyright]