الكلمات الأصلية
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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 blossom bright
Amid the cold of winter
When half-spent was the light
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
