In The Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone

Snow was falling, snow on snow, snow on snow

In the bleak midwinter, long ago

Angels and archangels may have gathered there

Cherubim and Seraphim thronged in the air

But only his mother, in her maiden bliss

Worshiped the beloved with a holy kiss

What can I give him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb

And if I were a wise girl, I would do my part

Yet what I can I give him?

I give him my heart