In the bleak mid-winterFrosty wind made moanEarth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,In the bleak mid-winterLong 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 Almighty —Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubimWorship night and day,A breastful of milkAnd a mangerful of hay;Enough 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 Him,Poor 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.
