Behold, a branch is growing
Of loveliest form and grace!
As prophets sang, foreknowing,
It springs from Jesse’s race
And now begins to flow’r
In midst of coldest winter,
At deepest midnight hour.
Isaiah had foretold it
In words of promise sure,
And Mary’s arms enfold it,
A virgin meek and pure.
Through God’s eternal will
This child to her is given
At midnight calm and still.
This flow’r, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor
The darkness ev’rywhere.
True man, and yet true God,
From sin and death he saves us
And lightens ev’ry load.
O Savior, child of Mary,
Who felt our human woes,
O Savior, King of glory,
Who conquered all our foes,
Bring us at last, we pray,
To the bright courts of heaven
And to the endless day.
