歌词
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