(G. Holst, C. Rossetti)

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 arc-angels

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 sheperd

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