In the Bleak Midwinter

In the bleak mid-winterFrosty wind made moan,Earth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,In the bleak mid-winter,Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold himNor earth sustain;Heaven and earth shall flee awayWhen he comes to reign:In the bleak mid-winterA stable-place sufficedThe Lord God AlmightyJesus Christ.

Enough for him, whom CherubimWorship night and day,A breastful of milk,And a mangerful of hayEnough for him, whom AngelsFall down before,The ox and ass and camelWhich adore.

Angels and ArchangelsMay have gathered there,Cherubim and SeraphimThronged the air—But only his motherIn her maiden blissWorshipped the BelovedWith a kiss.

What can I give himPoor as I am?If I were a shepherdI would bring a lamb;If I were a wise manI would do my part;Yet what I can I give him—Give my heart.