In the bleak midwinter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone
Snow was falling, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged in the air
But only his mother, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a holy 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 girl, I would do my part
Yet what I can I give him?
I give him my heart.