Children Christmas Poems
Christmas is a special time of year for children across the world. Throughout the history of this day, poets have been writing hymns and poetry to commemorate this time of year. Here are a few great poems for kids of all ages.
Christmas Day in the Morning
Maids, get up and bake your pies, Bake your pies, bake your pies; Maids, get up and bake your pies, 'Tis Christmas day in the morning. See the ships all sailing by, Sailing by, sailing by; See the ships all sailing by On Christmas day in the morning. Dame, what made your ducks to die, Ducks to die, ducks to die; Dame, what made your ducks to die On Christmas day in the morning? You let your lazy maidens lie, Maidens lie, maidens lie; You let your lazy maidens lie On Christmas day in the morning. by Bishoprick Garland, A.D. 1834
A Christmas Lullaby
Sleep, baby, sleep! The Mother sings; Heaven's angels kneel and fold their wings: Sleep, baby, sleep! With swathes of scented hay thy bed By Mary's hand at eve was spread. Sleep, baby, sleep! At midnight came the shepherds, they Whom seraphs wakened by the way. Sleep, baby, sleep! And three kings from the East afar Ere dawn came, guided by thy star. Sleep, baby, sleep! They brought thee gifts of gold and gems, Pure orient pearls, rich diadems. Sleep, baby, sleep! But thou who liest slumbering there, Art King of kings, earth, ocean, air. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! The shepherds sing: Through heaven, through earth, hosannas ring. Sleep, baby, sleep! by John Addington Symonds
The Virgin's Cradle-Hymn
Dormi, Jesu! Mater ridet Quæ tam dulcem somnum videt, Dormi, Jesu! blandule! Si non dormis, Mater plorat Inter fila cantans orat, Blande, veni, somnule. _Translation._ Sleep, sweet babe! my cares beguiling: Mother sits beside thee smiling; Sleep, my darling, tenderly! If thou sleep not, mother mourneth, Singing as her wheel she turneth: Come soft slumber, balmily! by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Wilmington's Santa Claus
In far way Alaska By all it is believed That Santa is a big white bear From whom gifts are received. And Wilmington's wee kiddies Begin to think the same, That a good BEAR is Santa - At least that's Santa's name. For when they need a playground, A school, or book, or toy, 'Tis SAMUEL BEAR who grants each wish And makes kids dance for joy. So let all of us children Invoke the powers above To grant him long life, health and wealth, And gratitude and love. by Winifred Sackville Stoner Jr.
A Visit from St. Nicholas also known as The Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap; When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and Saint Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney Saint Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" by Clement Clarke Moore