Lo, How a Rose E´er 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 fl ow´ret bright
Amid the cold of winter
When half-spent was the night.
Isaiah ´twas foretold it,
This Rose that I have in mind.
And with Mary we behold it,
The Virgin Mother so sweet and so kind.
To show God´s love aright,
She bore to men a Saviour
When half-spent was the night.
7 Cold Song
What power art thou who from below
Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow?
See´st thou not how stiff, how stiff and wondrous
old,
Far, far unfi t to bear the bitter cold?
I can scarcely move or draw my breath:
Let me, let me, let me freeze again to death.