In The Bleak Mid-Winter

In the bleak midwinter, frost wind made moan, 
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; 
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, 
in the bleak midwinter, long ago. 

Angels and archangels may have gathered there, 
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; 
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss, 
worshiped the beloved with a kiss. 

What can I give him, poor as I am? 
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; 
If I were a Wise Man, would I do my part; 
yet what I can I give him: give my heart. 

In the bleak midwinter, frost wind made moan, 
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; 
if I were a Wise Man, would I do my part; 
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.