Christmas poems
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Dream Song 117: Disturbed, when Henry's love returned with a hubby
© John Berryman
Disturbed, when Henry's love returned with a hubby,-
I see that, Henry, I don't put that down,-
he thought he had to think
or with a razor like a skating-rink
have more to say or more to them downtown
in the Christmas season, like a hobby.
Rhymes for Gloriana
© Vachel Lindsay
This doll upon the topmost bough,
This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress,
Was taken down and brought to me
One sleety night most comfortless.
Springfield Magical
© Vachel Lindsay
In this, the City of my Discontent,
Sometimes there comes a whisper from the grass,
"Romance, Romance is here. No Hindu town
Is quite so strange. No Citadel of Brass
Sweethearts of the Year
© Vachel Lindsay
Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly,
Her gliding hands were fire,
Her lilac breath upon our cheeks
Consumed us with desire.
The Light o' the Moon
© Vachel Lindsay
The moon's a peck of corn. It lies
Heaped up for me to eat.
I wish that I might climb the path
And taste that supper sweet.
Star of My Heart
© Vachel Lindsay
Star of my heart, I follow from afar.
Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are,
Where Time is not, and only dreamers are.
Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead
This Section is a Christmas Tree
© Vachel Lindsay
THIS section is a Christmas tree:
Loaded with pretty toys for you.
Behold the blocks, the Noah's arks,
The popguns painted red and blue.
Christmas
© George Herbert
After all pleasures as I rid one day,
My horse and I, both tir'd, bodie and minde,
With full crie of affections, quite astray;
I took up the next inne I could finde.
Route Marchin'
© Rudyard Kipling
We're marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains,
A little front o' Christmas-time an' just be'ind the Rains;
Ho! get away you bullock-man, you've 'eard the bugle blowed,
There's a regiment a-comin' down the Grand Trunk Road;
Eddi's Service
© Rudyard Kipling
Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
In his chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
For such as cared to attend.
Christmas in India
© Rudyard Kipling
Dim dawn behind the tamerisks -- the sky is saffron-yellow --
As the women in the village grind the corn,
And the parrots seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow
That the Day, the staring Easter Day is born.
Cholera Camp
© Rudyard Kipling
We've got the cholerer in camp -- it's worse than forty fights;
We're dyin' in the wilderness the same as Isrulites;
It's before us, an' be'ind us, an' we cannot get away,
An' the doctor's just reported we've ten more to-day!
A Charm
© Rudyard Kipling
These shall cleanse and purify
Webbed and inward-turning eye;
These shall show thee treasure hid,
Thy familiar fields amid;
And reveal (which is thy need)
Every man a King indeed!
The Shivering Beggar
© Robert Graves
NEAR Clapham village, where fields began,
Saint Edward met a beggar man.
It was Christmas morning, the church bells tolled,
The old man trembled for the fierce cold.
Christmas Day
© Hartley Coleridge
WAS it a fancy, bred of vagrant guess,
Or well-remember'd fact, that He was born
Christmas At The Round Table
© John Hookham Frere
The great King Arthur made a royal feast,
And held his Royal Christmas at Carlisle,
