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.
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.
—Christina Rossetti
