In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our god, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The lord god almighty, jesus christ.
Enough for him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But his mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped 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.
Writer(s): Traditional, Sarah Mclachlan, Pierre Marchand
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