Top 20 Inspirational Christmas Poems For Kids & Adults

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Inspirational Christmas Poems
Inspirational Christmas Poems

Love Came Down at Christmas
Christina Rossetti

Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine;
Love was born at Christmas,
Star and angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,
Love Incarnate, Love Divine;
Worship we our Jesus:
But wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,
Love be yours and love be mine,
Love to God and all men,
Love for plea and gift and sign.


Religious christmas poems
Religious christmas poems

The House of Hospitalities
Thomas Hardy

Here we broached the Christmas barrel,
Pushed up the charred log-ends;
Here we sang the Christmas carol,
And called in friends.

Time has tired me since we met here
When the folk now dead were young.
Since the viands were outset here
And quaint songs sung.

And the worm has bored the viol
That used to lead the tune,
Rust eaten out the dial
That struck night’s noon.

Now no Christmas brings in neighbours,
And the New Year comes unlit;
Where we sang the mole now labours,
And spiders knit.

Yet at midnight if here walking,
When the moon sheets wall and tree,
I see forms of old time talking,
Who smile on me.


Happy christmas poetry
Happy christmas poetry

In the Bleak Midwinter
Christina Rossetti

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

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 I can I give Him: give my heart.


Christmas poems for kids
Christmas poems for kids

The First Christmas
Marian Swinger

It never snows at Christmas in that dry and dusty land.

Instead of freezing blizzards, there are palms and drifting sands,

and years ago a stable and a most unusual star

and three wise men who followed it, by camel, not by car,

while, sleepy on the quiet hills, a shepherd gave a cry.

He’d seen a crowd of angels in the silent starlit sky.

In the stable, ox and ass stood very still and calm

and gazed upon the baby, safe and snug in Mary’s arms.

And Joseph, lost in shadows, face lit by an oil lamp’s glow

stood wondering, that first Christmas Day, two thousand years ago


Little tree little silent

Little Tree
e.e cummings

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid

look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
‘Noel Noel’


Merry christmas poems
Merry christmas poems

The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
Emily Dickinson

The Savior must have been
A docile Gentleman-
To come so far so cold a Day
For little Fellowmen-

The Road to Bethlehem
Since He and I were Boys
Was leveled, but for that ‘twould be
A rugged Billion Miles


The waite, at the break of
Christmas Cards

The Waits
Margaret Deland

At the break of Christmas Day,
Through the frosty starlight ringing,
Faint and sweet and far away,
Comes the sound of children, singing,
Chanting, singing,
“Cease to mourn,
For Christ is born,
Peace and joy to all men bringing!”

Careless that the chill winds blow,
Growing stronger, sweeter, clearer,
Noiseless footfalls in the snow,
Bring the happy voices nearer;
Hear them singing,
“Winter’s drear,
But Christ is here,
Mirth and gladness with Him bringing.”

“Merry Christmas!” hear them say,
As the East is growing lighter;
“May the joy of Christmas Day
Make your whole year gladder, brighter!”
Join their singing,
“To each home
Our Christ has come,
All Love’s treasures with Him bringing!”


Led by a star, a golden star

Wartime Christmas
Joyce Kilmer

Led by a star, a golden star,
The youngest star, an olden star,
Here the kings and the shepherds are,
Akneeling on the ground.
What did they come to the inn to see?
God in the Highest, and this is He,
A baby asleep on His mother’s knee
And with her kisses crowned.

Now is the earth a dreary place,
A troubled place, a weary place.
Peace has hidden her lovely face
And turned in tears away.
Yet the sun, through the war-cloud, sees
Babies asleep on their mother’s knees.
While there are love and home-and these-
There shall be Christmas Day.


Christmas Morn
Anna de Bremont

There’s a holy light like a beacon bright,
Afar over land and sea.
Soft its lambent ray o’er the broad earth plays
With a rosy dancing glee,
And the topmost peak of the mountains bleak
Blush fair in the glowing morn.
Over wood and tarn sweeps the glorious dawn
To herald the Child-Christ born.

White the sea-waves fling like an angel’s wing
The foam as their blue crests rise,
While each gallant ship, with a skim and a dip,
In the wind’s lap speeding flies;
And the sailor’s song is borne along
The breeze of the golden morn,
For joyous he sings as the mast he swings
To herald the Child-Christ born.

In the land of snow where the keen winds blow
And the ice-king holds his sway,
A glittering sheen on the plains is seen,
As tribute to him they pay.
While merrily sing with a peal and a ring
The bells on the crystal morn,
As gayly they chime with silvery rhyme
To herald the Child-Christ born.

To his sea-girt home, where’er he may roam,
Speed the thoughts of Briton’s son.
In city or plain, on the crested main,
The heart of the absent one
Again in his dreams with ecstasy seems
To swell in the happy morn,
As he hears the voice of his loved rejoice,
To herald the Child-Christ born.

In dreams borne along, he joins the glad throng,
The riot and wassail gay;
And the boar’s head bold as in Nowel old
Brave crowns the feast of the day;
The holly’s red blush ’mid the ivy’s crush;
The mistletoe greets the morn
With kisses to claim in love’s holy name,
To herald the Child-Christ born.

Then Charity sweet with most gracious feet
Walks forth o’er the smiling land,
To widow’s relief, to fatherless grief,
She bringeth a helping hand.
For peace and good-will the whole world doth fill
With the dawn of the Nowel morn.
Let every heart sing a glad welcoming,
To herald the Child-Christ born.


Christmas Eve
Ella Higginson

Straight thro’ a fold of purple mist
The sun goes down—a crimson wheel
And like an opal burns the sea
That once was cold as steel.

With pomp of purple, gold and red,
Thou wilt come back at morrow’s dawn…
But thou can’st never bring, O Sun,
The Christmas that is gone!


Christmas Bells
Henry Wadsworth 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 hearth-stones 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.”


The Crying Need for Snow
Clive James

It’s cold without the softness of a fall
Of snow to give these scenes a common bond
And though, besotted on a viewless rime,
The ducks can do their standing-on-the-pond
Routine that leaves you howling, all in all
We need some snow to hush the whole thing up.

The ducks can do their flatfoot-waterfool
Mad act that leaves you helpless, but in fine
We need their footprints in a higher field
Made pure powder, need their wig-wag line
Of little kites pressed in around the pool:
An afternoon of snow should cover that.

Some crystalline precipitate should throw
Its multifarious weightlessness around
For half a day and paint the whole place out,
Bring back a soft regime to bitter ground:
An instant plebiscite would vote for snow
So overwhelmingly if we could call it now.

An afternoon of snow should cover that
Milk-bottle neck bolt upright in the slime
Fast frozen at the pond’s edge, brutal there:
We need to see junk muffled, whitewashed grime,
Lean brittle ice grown comfortably fat,
A world prepared to take our footprints in.

A world prepared to take our footprints in
Needs painting out, needs be a finer field:
So overwhelmingly, if we could call it now,
The fluffy stuff would prime it: it would yield
To lightest step, be webbed and toed and heeled,
Pushed flat, smoothed off, heaped high, pinched anyhow,
Yet be inviolable. Put like that,
Gently, the cold makes sense. Snow links things up.


Just Doing My Job
Clare Bevan

I’m one of Herod’s Henchmen.
We don’t have much to say,
We just charge through the audience
In a Henchman sort of way.

We all wear woolly helmets
To hide our hair and ears,
And Wellingtons sprayed silver
To match our tinfoil spears.

Our swords are made of cardboard
So blood will not be spilled
If we trip and stab a parent
When the hall’s completely filled.

We don’t look very scary,
We’re mostly small and shy,
And some of us wear glasses,
But we give the thing a try.

We whisper Henchman noises
While Herod hunts for strangers,
And then we all charge out again
Like nervous Power Rangers.

Yet when the play is over
And Miss is out of breath
We’ll charge like Henchmen through the hall
And scare our mums to death.


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