In the bleak midwinter, frosty 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 travelled there
Cherubim and Seraphim thronged the air
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved with a 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 Man, I would do my part
But what I can I give Him, give Him my heart
What I can I give Him, give Him my heart