Christmas poems
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Autumn Fears
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The weary, dreary, dripping rain,
From morn till night, from night till morn,
Nearing Christmas
© Madison Julius Cawein
THE season of the rose and peace is past:
It could not last.
There's heartbreak in the hills and stormy sighs
Of sorrow in the rain-lashed plains and skies,
Lancan vei per mei la landa
© Bernard de Ventadorn
Si.l reis engles e.l ducs normans
o vol, eu la veira abans
que l'iverns nos sobreprenda.
Elegy: Walking the Line
© Edgar Bowers
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line,
The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum
Superb above the cabin, along the wall
Stones gathered from the level field nearby
The Wanderer
© John Masefield
ALL day they loitered by the resting ships,
Telling their beauties over, taking stock;
At night the verdict left my messmate's lips,
"The Wanderer is the finest ship in dock."
The Everlasting Mercy
© John Masefield
Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
Com on my freend, my brothir moost enteer,
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise.
John Lydgate.
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. January
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
COVER SHOOTING
The week at Whinwood next to Christmas week.
Six guns, no more, but all good men and true,
Of the clean--visaged sort, with ruddy cheek
Theme For English B
© Langston Hughes
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.
Poem (The lump of coal my parents teased)
© William Matthews
The lump of coal my parents teased
I'd find in my Christmas stocking
turned out each year to be an orange,
for I was their sunshine.
The Christmas Box
© Edgar Albert Guest
Oh, we have shipped his Christmas box with ribbons red 'tis tied,
And he shall find the things he likes from them he loves inside,
But he must miss the kisses true and all the laughter gay
And he must miss the smiles of home upon his Christmas Day.
The True-Blue American
© Delmore Schwartz
Jeremiah Dickson was a true-blue American,
For he was a little boy who understood America, for he felt that he must
A Retrospective Review
© Thomas Hood
Oh, when I was a tiny boy,
My days and nights were full of joy,
My mates were blithe and kind!
No wonder that I sometimes sigh,
And dash the tear-drop from my eye,
To cast a look behind!
A Song Of Christmas
© Katharine Tynan
THE Christmas moon shines clear and right;
There were poor travellers such a night
Had neither fire nor candle-light.
Prologue To A Charade.--"Damn-Ages"
© Horace Smith
In olden time--in great Eliza's age,
When rare Ben Jonson ruled the humorous stage,
The Chimney-Sweeper's Song
© William Strode
Then up I rush with my pole and brush,
I scowre the chimney's Jacket,
I make it shine as bright as mine,
When I have rub'd and rak'd it.
Before The Paling Of The Stars
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock crow,
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Reynard the Fox - Part 1
© John Masefield
Poor Polly's dying struck him queer,
He was a darkened man thereafter,
Cowed, silent, he would wince at laughter
And be so gentle it was strange
Even to see. Life loves to change.
The Paroo
© Henry Lawson
It was a week from Christmas-time,
As near as I remember,
And half a year since, in the rear,
We'd left the Darling timber.
