In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, on snow
In the bleak midwinter, long ago

Angels and archangels may have travelled there
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air
But only His mother, in her maiden's bliss
Worshiped the beloved with a kiss

What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would give a lamb
If I were a wise man, I would do my part
But what I can I give him: give him my heart
But what I can I give him: give him my heart