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, long ago.
Angels and Archangels
May have gathered there;
Cherubim and Seraphim
Thronged the air.
But only his mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshiped the beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give him
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give him,
Give my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment