Lo, how a rose e'r blooming
From tender stem hath sprung
Of Jessie's lineage coming
As men of old hath sung
It came a floweret bright
When half spent was the night.
Isaiah 'twas foretold it
The rose I have in mind
With Mary we behold it
Thy virgin mother kind
To shew God's love a right
She bore to men a Savior
When half spent was the night.
Writer(s): Traditional, Marty Paich
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