1. Lo, how a rose e're blooming From tenderstem hath sprung, Of Jesse's lineage coming As men 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 beheld it, The virgin mother kind. To show God's love aright She bore to them a Savior, When half spent was the night