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7 Christmas Poems I Like

Updated on December 15, 2016

The New Year's Gift


Let other's look for pearl and gold,

Tissues, or tabbies manifold:

One only lock of that sweet hay

Whereon the blessed Baby lay,

Or one poor swaddling-clout, shall be

The richest New-year's gift to me.

                               Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

A Christmas Bit


If I were Santa Claus this year

  I'd change his methods for the day;

I'd give to all the children here

  But there are things I'd take away.


I'd enter every home to steal,

  With giving I'd not be content,

I'd find the heart-aches men conceal

  And take them with me when I went.


I'd rob the invalid of pain;

  I'd steal the poor man's weight of care;

I'd take the prisoner's ball and chain

  And every crime which sent him there.


I'd take the mother's fears away,

  The doubts which often fret the wise--

And all should wake on Christmas Day

  With happy hearts and shining eyes.


For old and young this is my prayer:

  God bless us all this Christmas Day

And give us strength our tasks to bear,

  And take our bitter griefs away!

Edgar A. Guest


The True Christmas


So stick up ivy and the bays,

And then restore the heathen ways.

Green will remind you of the spring,

Though this great day denies the thing.

And mortifies the earth and all

But your wild revels, and loose hall.

Could you wear flowers, and roses strow

Blushing upon your breasts' warm snow,

That very dress your lightness will

Rebuke, and whiter at the ill.

The brightness of this day we owe

Not unto music, masque, nor show:

Nor gallant furniture, nor plate;

But to the manger's mean estate.

His life while here, as well as birth,

Was but a check to pomp and mirth;

And all man's greatness you may see

Condemned by His humility.

Then leave your open house and noise,

To welcome him with holy joys,

And the poor shepherd's watchfulness:

Whom light and hymns from heaven did bless.

What you abound with, cast abroad

To those that want, and ease your load.

Who empties thus, will bring more in;

But riot is both loss and sin  .

Dress finely what comes not in sight,

And then you keep your Christmas right.

                                     Henry Vaughn ( 1622-1695 )


Christmas Everywhere


Everywhere, everywhere, Christmas tonight!

Christmas in lands of the fir-tree and pine,

Christmas in lands of the palm-tree and vine,

Christmas where snow peaks stand solemn and white,

Christmas where cornfields stand sunny and bright.

Christmas where children are hopeful and gay,

Christmas where old men are patient and gray,

Christmas where peace, like a dove in his flight,

Broods o're brave men in the thick of the fight;

Everywhere, everywhere, Christmas tonight!

For the Christ-child who comes is the Mastrer of all;

No palace too great, no cottage too small.

                                     Phillips Brooks (1835 -1893)


Voices in the Mist


The time draws near the birth of Christ:

The moon is hid; the night is still;

The Christmas bells from hill to hill

Answer each other in the mist.


Four voices of four hamlets round,

From far and near, on mead and moor,

Swell out and fail, as if a door

Were shut between me and the sound:


Each voice four changes on the wind,

That now dilate, and now decrease,

Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,

Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.

                             Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 - 1892)



Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb,

Now leaves His well-belov'd Imprisonment,

There He hath made Himself to His intent

Weak enough, now into the world to come;

But O, for thee, For Him, hath the inn no room?

Yet lay Him in this stall, and from the Orient,

Stars and wise men will travel to prevent

The effect of Herod's jealous general doom.

Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith's eyes, how He

Which fills all place, yet none holds Him, doth lie?

Was not His pity towards thee wondrous high,

That would have need to be pitied by thee?

Kiss Him, and with Him into Egypt go,

With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe.

                                                  John Donne ( 1572 - 1631)

What Do We Love About Christmas?


What do we love about Christmas;

Does our delight reside in things?

Or are the feelings in our hearts

The real gift that Christmas brings.


It's seeing those people we love,

And sending Christmas cards, too,

Appreciating people who bring us joy

          Special people like you.

                                Joanna Fuchs


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