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!

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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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