Lyrics

From gentle stem it has sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming,
As men of old have sung.
There came a flow'ret bright,
When half spent was the night.

The rose of which I'm singing,
The rose I have in mind,
Is from its sweet root springing,
─ Oh Mary, purest kind! ─
A babe of love and might,
When half spent was the night.

The sun was dark that evening,
All flowers closed, by for one,
And as she gently opened,
Mary bore a son!
How beautiful the sight,
When half spent was the night!