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