Poet: Crocket McElroy
There never had been a Christmas morn,
Till near nineteen hundred years ago,
When Christ our glorious Lord was born,
And peace and good will began to grow.
Christ taught fathers and mothers to pray,
And how good, pure and kind they should be,
And when some one pushed children away,
Said, "Suffer them to come unto Me."
We all should rejoice and be thankful
That Christ loved little children so strong,
And strive to be happy and cheerful,
And never to do anything wrong.
It pays to be good and be pleasant,
And pleases our kind parents so well,
We are sure to receive a nice present,
When old Santa Claus comes with his bell.
Now, my good friends and my teacher, too,
I have one strong wish for which I'll pray,
I wish for me and I wish for you,
That Christ will come back some Christmas day.
Poet: Lady Lindsay
The shops are decked; green wreaths hang fair to see;
Our town is gay with mirth and jollity;
The people crowd, and laugh and dance in hall -
'Tis Christmas Day, a merry festival!
And sweet the story how, from Heaven's own gate,
The King's Son came, so left His mighty state,
While angels sang, "Glory to God on high,
And on earth peace, for Christ new-born doth lie."
"'Then shepherds marvelled, and a beauteous star
Guided the wise men from the Orient far,
!lL To bend the knee where, in poor stable-rest.
The Virgin-Mother clasped her babe on breast.
Yet some there be that turn aside and weep:
Some in whose life grief's canker gnaws o'er-deep,
Some racked by pain or crushed by blindness pall.
And some to cruel sickness bound in thrall;
Some that stretch helpless hands across the flood
Which bore their dear ones from all worldly good -
Fain would they drag those pale ghosts back, and cry,
"If Death take all I love, then I must die!''
And some starve daily, deeming rich folk hard,
While others from love's comfort stand debarr'd,
And some burn fierce in hate, revenge or wrong -
Such fever, bred of injury, stays long.
Some, groping at Faith's door in misty doubt,
Are worn by conflict, from the Truth shut out.
To all these woeful souls a Christmas morn
Brings but new grief and weariness forlorn.
Then bid them gaze toward Calvary's dark hill,
Where He, our Sacrifice, bleeds for us still -
Sinless, compassionate - for me, for you.
Yea, mortal anguish to the full He knew.
Misjudged He was, poor, mocked, in thought most lone;
Scarce counted He a scrip or staff His own.
He wept, ne'er laughed, and His few years on earth
Were toilsome, void of praise, success, or mirth.
Faint hearts! Christ's message wings not to the glad.
He calls the blind, the lame, the sick, the sad
The Christmas of the Sorrowful, for sure.
Within His own short span did He endure.
When here His latest wintry days were spent
He wrestled sore in prayer, and silent went
Out to the desert, sorrow-led, where dim
The future loomed, and Death encompassed Him.
His hours as holy stairs led up to God
Steps that His aching, bruised feet slow trod.
Dwell ye on this, ye that repine and fret,
That He may lift and walk beside you yet.
Bare earth and naked trees on every side
We see around us at chill Christmas-tide;
Yet, later, shall the crocus buds of gold
Flame o'er this dank and desolate brown mould.
So shines the promise of each Christmas Day;
Though dark our path, our Guide shall lead the way.
Here is good cheer, for Christ hath taught us peace -
The Man of Sorrows bids our sorrow cease.
Be inspired by these Christmas poems:
Christmas Poems About Jesus
Religious Christmas Poems
Christmas Poems About Love
Christmas In Heaven Poems
Poet: Henry W, Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play.
And wild and sweet
The words repeat.
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come.
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way.
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearthstones of a continent.
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!
The Wrong shall fail.
The Right prevail.
With peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Christmas Sayings
Poet: Reginald Heber
Saviour, whom this holy morn
Gave to our world below,
To mortal want and labor born,
And more than mortal woe;
Incarnate Word by every grief.
By each temptation tried,
Who lived to yield our ills relief,
And to redeem us, died!
If gayly clothed and proudly fed.
In dangerous wealth we dwell.
Remind us of thy manger bed
And lowly cottage cell!
If, prest by poverty severe,
In envious want we pine.
Oh, may the Spirit whisper near
How poor a lot was Thine!
Through fickle fortune's various scene
From sin preserve us free!
Like us Thou hast a mourner been, -
May we rejoice with Thee!
Poet: Lady Lindsay
Happy shepherds, pipe and trill!
So your earth-tuned melody
Join the angels' harmony.
Far beyond yon snow-bound hill.
Happy shepherds, kneel and pray!
First to you the message given.
First for you the song from heaven,
On that blessed Christmas Day.
Set in silver, as a gem,
Gleams among the stars yon star;
Ride the wise kings from afar
Toward the Babe in Bethlehem.
In a manger's grassy bed
He, the Lord of Life and Time,
Lord of each wide world and clime.
Meekly chose to lay His head.
Praise to God and peace on earth:
Christ is come of mortal birth.
