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| In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Wintersnow had fallen, snow on snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long time ago, long time ago. Angels and archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim filled the winter air; Only his mother, in her maiden bliss, Worshipped the Beloved with a mother's kiss, with a mother's 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, I would do my part; Yet what I can I give Him: I will give my heart, I will give my heart. |