In the bleak midwinter
"This exquisitely melancholy and evocative carol, imagining the Nativity in a snowy Northern landscape, was originally written by Christina Rossetti as a Christmas poem for an American magazine, Scribner’s Monthly, in 1872." (Quoted from here.)
(Photo of nearby Thirlwall Castle taken a couple of years ago...but feels and looks like that today. Brrr!)
"In The Bleak Midwinter" has been named the best Christmas carol in a poll of some of the world's leading choirmasters and choral experts (BBC report 27th November 2008). And I have to say that I agree with them wholeheartedly. I'm not an overly religious person but there is something about the ritual of church in combination with marvellous music which always sends shivers down my spine.
I think it was Colin Dexter who coined the phrase "high church agnostic" and I think I would put myself in that bracket. When we lived in Egypt it was incredibly fascinating hearing the call to prayer several times a day. There was a Christian Coptic church in the town but oddly I did miss seeing (and hearing) churches and church bells around me.
My family, when we were in South Shields, had a connection with the local Church of England vicar and his wife. Mrs. Talbot taught the girls (including me) piano and Mr. Talbot, the vicar, taught my father how to play the violin. (Nothing short of incredulous as my father declares himself to be a republican atheist.) I used to sing in the church choir for christenings and weddings as well (a good way of earning pocket money). I also used to go to a Catholic Girls School so I imagine that something (possibly spiritual?) has rubbed off onto me. Nevertheless I was quite taken aback by my yearnings for Church spires and the like whilst living abroad.
My husband adores all things to do with Christmas and is not of the "Bah, humbug!" variety. This leaves its mark on me too (I used to be of the latter persuasion). So when I heard that this carol had come up trumps I was absolutely delighted. All I have got to do is to commit the verses in their entirety to memory as I never seem to get past the first verse with its frozen still images in their icy magnificence. (The last verse, I suspect, has a particular resonance at the moment....)
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 mid-winter,
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 mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk,
And a mangerful of hay:
Enough for him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air -
But only his mother
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.
