Rosa mirabilis

There was a briar in a wood
As dead as any stone,
But see what from its stem has grown:
Rosa mirabilis.

O what am I, that from my bark
A lively rose should bloom?
When all the world was cold and dark:
Rosa mirabilis.

Pure as the priestly frankincense,
As sweet as any myrrh,
Than earthly fragrance lovelier:
Rosa mirabilis.

I was the lowest in the wood,
The least of any tree;
But now the high bow down to me:
Rosa mirabilis.

Am I not blessed with this my rose,
More blessed than any thing?
Then greet me all, and with me sing
Rosa mirabilis!


About middlingpoet

From the Gawain poet to Rainer Maria Rilke: I love traditional poetry.
This entry was posted in Advent & Christmas, Carols, Church Year and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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