In The Bleak Midwinter - Julie Andrews

In the bleak midwinter, frost 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.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there, 
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; 
But his mother only, 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.