Lo, How A Rose E're Blooming

	Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming from tender stem 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.
	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 men a Savior,
	When half spent was the night