Wacky Anne's Christmas Library: Christmas Poems

Behold, as Goblins Dark of Mien

Behold, as goblins dark of mien
And portly tyrants dyed with crime
Change, in the transformation scene,
At Christmas, in the pantomime,

Instanter, at the prompter's cough,
The fairy bonnets them, and they
Throw their abhorred carbuncles off
And blossom like the flowers in May.

- So mankind, to angelic eyes,
So, through the scenes of life below,
In life's ironical disguise,
A travesty of man, ye go:

But fear not: ere the curtain fall,
Death in the transformation scene
Steps forward from her pedestal,
Apparent, as the fairy Queen;

And coming, frees you in a trice
From all your lendings - lust of fame,
Ungainly virtue, ugly vice,
Terror and tyranny and shame.

So each, at last himself, for good
In that dear country lays him down,
At last beloved and understood
And pure in feature and renown.

A Christmas Carol

by G.K. Chesterton

The Christ Child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ Child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star
(O stern and cunning are the Kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ Child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ Child stood at Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him
And all the stars looked down.

Christmas Greetings

(From a Fairy to a Child)

by Lewis Carroll

Lady dear, if Fairies may
For a moment lay aside
Cunning tricks and elfish play,
'Tis at happy Christmas-tide.

We have heard the children say -
Gentle children, whom we love -
Long ago, on Christmas Day,
Came a message from above.

Still, as Christmas-tide comes round,
They remember it again -
Echo still the joyful sound
"Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Yet the hearts must childlike be
Where such heavenly guests abide:
Unto children, in their glee,
All the year is Christmas-tide!

Thus, forgetting tricks and play
For a moment, Lady dear,
We would wish you, if we may,
Merry Christmas, glad New Year!

What Can I Give Him?

by Christina Rossetti

"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 can I give Him?
Give my heart."

Beggar's Rhyme

Traditional

Christmas is coming, the goose is (geese are) getting fat,
Please to put a penny in the old man's hat;
If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do,
If you haven't got a ha'penny, God bless you.

Bethlehem of Judea

Author Unknown

A little child,
A shining star.
A stable rude,
The door ajar.

Yet in that place,
So crude, folorn,
The Hope of all
The world was born.

A Catch by the Hearth

Traditional English

Sing we all merrily
Christmas is here,
The day that we love best
Of the days in the year.

Bring forth the holly,
The box, and the bay,
Deck out out cottage
For glad Christmas-day.

Sing we all merrily
Draw around the fire,
Sister and brother,
Grandsire, and sire.

Christmas

by W.H. Davies

Christmas has come, let's eat and drink---
This is no time to sit and think;
Farewell to study, books and pen,
And welcome to all kinds of men.

Let all men now get rid of care,
Then 'tis the same, no matter which
Of us is poor, or which is rich.
Let each man have enough this day,
Since those that can are glad to pay;

There's nothing now too rich or good
For poor men, not the King's own food.
Now like a singing bird my feet
Touch earth, and I must drink and eat.

Welcome to all men: I'll not care
What any of my fellows wear;
We'll not let cloth divide our souls,
They'll swim stark naked in the bowls.

Welcome, poor beggar: I'll not see
That hand of yours dislodge a flea,
While you sit at my side and beg,
Or right foot scratching your left leg.

Farewell restraint: we will not now
Measure the ale our brains allow,
But drink as much as we can hold.
We'll count no change when we spend gold;
This is not time to save, but spend
To give for nothing, not to lend.

Let foes make friends: let them forget
The mischief-making dead that fret
the living with complaint like this --
"He wronged us once, hate him and his.."

Christmas has come; let every man
Eat, drink, be merry all he can.
Ale's my best mark, but if port wine
Or whisky's yours -- let it be mine;
No matter what lies in the bowls,
We'll make it rich with our own sould.
Farewell to study, books and pen,
And welcome to all kinds of men.

Christmas Carol

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Ring out, ye bells!
All Nature swells
With gladness of the wondrous story,
The world was lorn,
But Christ is born
To change our sadness into glory.

Sing, earthlings, sing!
To-night a King
hath come from heaven's high throne to bless us.
The outstretched hand
O'er all the land
Is raised in pity to caress us.

Come at His call;
Be joyful all;
Away with mourning and with sadness!
The heavenly choir
With holy fire
Their voices raise in songs of gladness.

The darkness breaks
And Dawn awakes,
Her cheeks suffused with youthful blushes.
The rocks and stones
In holy tones
Are singing sweeter than the thrushes.

Then why should we
In silence be,
When Nature lends her voice to praises;
When heaven and earth
Proclaim the truth
Of Him for whom that lone star blazes?

No, be not still,
But with a will
Strike all your harps and set them ringing;
On hill and heath
Let every breath
Throw all its power into singing!

Christmas Greeting

Traditional

Sing hey! Sing hey!
For Christmas Day;
Twine mistletoe and holly,
For friendship glows
In winter snows,
And so let's all be jolly.

Hold, Men, Hold!

Traditional English

Hold, men, hold!
Be there loaf in your locker
And sheep in your fold,
A fire on your hearth,
And good luck for your lot,
Money in your pocket,
And a pudding in the pot!
Hold, men, hold!

Hold, men, hold! we are very cold,
Inside and outside it is very cold.
If you don't give us silver, then give us gold
From the money in your pockets.
Hold, men, hold!

God Almighty bless your hearth and fold,
Shut out the wolf, and keep out the cold!
Give us the silber and you keep the gold,
For 'tis money in your pockets!
Hold, men, hold!

Let's Have Music!

by Richard Hill

Lett no man cum into this hall,
Grome, page, nor yet marshall,
But that sum sport he bryng withall;
For now ys the tyme of Crystymas!

Yff that he say he can not sing
Some oder sport then let him bring,
That yt may please at thys festyng;
For now ys the tyme of Crystymas!

Yff he say he can nowght do,
Then for my love aske hym no mo,
but to the stokkis then lett hym go;
For now ys the tyme of Crystymas!

Long, Long Ago

Author Unknown

Winds thro'the olive trees
Softly did blow,
Round little Bethlehem
Long, long ago.

Sheep on the hillside lay
Whiter than snow;
Shepherds were watching them,
Long, long ago.

Then from the happy sky,
Angels bent low,
Singin their songs of joy,
Long, long ago.

For in a manger bed,
Cradled we know,
Christ came to Bethlehem,
Long, long ago.

Santa Claus

Author Unknown

He comes in the night! He comes in the night!
He softly, silently comes;
While the little brown heads on the pillows so white
Are dreaming of bugles and drums.
He cuts through the snow like a ship through the foam,
While the white flakes around him whirl;
Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home
Of each good little boy and girl.

His sleigh it is long, and deep, and wide;
It will carry a host of things,
While dozens of drums hang over the side,
With the sticks sticking under the strings.
And yet not the sound of a drum is heard,
Not a bugle blast is blown,
As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird,
And drops to the hearth like a stone.

The little red stockings he silently fills,
Till the stockings will hold no more;
The bright little sleds for the great snow hills
Are quickly set down on the floor.
Then Santa Claus mont to the roof like a bird,
And glides to his seat in the sleigh;
Not a sound of a bugle or drum is heard
As he noiselessly gallops away.

He rides to the East, and he rides to the West,
Of his goodies he touches not one;
He eateth the crumbs of the Christmas feast
When the dear little folks are done.
Old Santa Claus doeth all tht he can;
This beautiful mission is his;
Then, children be good to the little old man,
When you find who the little man is.

When Santa Claus Comes

Author Unknown

A good time is coming, I wish it were here,
The very best time in the whole of the year;
I'm counting each day on my fingers and thumbs --
the weeks that must pass before Santa Claus comes.
Then when the first snowflakes begin to come down,
And the wind whistles sharp and the branches are brown,
I'll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs,
For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes.