A spotless Rose is blowing

A spotless Rose is blowing
Sprung from a tender root
Of ancient seers′ foreshowing
Of Jesse promised fruit
It’s fairest bud unfolds to light
Amid the cold, cold winter
And in the dark midnight
The Rose which I am singing
Whereof Isaiah said
Is from it′s sweet root springing
In Mary, purest Maid
For through our God’s great love and might
The blessed babe she bare us
In a cold, cold winter’s night
The Rose which I am singing
Whereof Isaiah said
Is from it′s sweet root springing
In Mary, purest Maid
For through our God′s great love and might
The blessed babe she bare us
In a cold, cold winter’s night

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