I have been reading in our garden of flowers and old trees favourite Christmas poems collected over the years and for this column nearest Christmas Day I share a few of them.
Christmas Morn
Shall I tell you what will come to
Bethlehem on Christmas morn, who
will kneel them gently down before
the Lord new-born?
One small fish from the river, with
scales of red, red gold, one wild
bee from the heather, one grey
lamb from the fold, one ox from
the high pasture, one black bull
from the herd, one goatling from
the far hills, one white, white bird.
And many children – God give them grace,
bringing tall candles to light Mary’ face.
Ruth Sawyer
BC: AD
This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future’s
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.
This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.
This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.
And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.
U.A. Fanthorpe
Moonless Darkness Stands Between
Moonless darkness stands between.
Past, O Past, no more be seen!
But the Bethlehem star may lead me
To the sight of Him who freed me
From the self that I have been.
Make me pure, Lord: Thou art holy;
Make me meek, Lord: Thou wert lowly;
Now beginning, and alway:
Now begin, on Christmas day.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
The Carol of the Poor Children
We are the poor children, come out to see the sights
On this day of all days, on this night of nights,
The stars in merry parties are dancing in the sky,
A fine star, a new star, is shining on high!
We are the poor children, our lips are frosty blue,
We cannot sing our carol as well as rich folk do,
Our bellies are so empty we have no singing voice.
But this night of all nights good children must rejoice.
We do rejoice, we do rejoice, as hard as we can try,
A fine star, a new star is shining in the sky!
And while we sing our carol, we think of the delight
The happy kings and shepherds make in Bethlehem tonight.
Are we naked, mother, and are we starving-poor –
Oh, see what gifts the kings have brought outside the stable door,
Are we cold, mother, the ass will give his hay
To make the manger warm and keep the cruel winds away.
We are the poor children, but not so poor who sing
Our carol with our voiceless hearts to greet the new-born king,
On this night of all nights, when in the frosty sky
A new star, a kind star is shining on high!
Richard Middleton
Pilgrims in Mexico
‘Who knocks at my door, so late in the night?’
‘We are pilgrims, without shelter, and we want only a place to rest.’
‘Go somewhere else and disturb me not again.’
‘But the night is very cold. We have come from afar, and we are very tired.’
‘But who are you? I know not.’
‘I am Joseph of Nazareth, a carpenter, and with me is Mary, my wife, who will be the mother of the Son of God.’
‘Then come into my humble home, and welcome! And may the Lord give shelter to my soul when I leave this world!’
Traditional
A Roman Thank-You Letter
For New Year, Postumus, ten years ago,
You sent me four pounds of good silver-plate.
The next year, hoping for a rise in weight
(For gifts should either stay the same or grow),
I got two pounds. The third and fourth produced
Inferior presents, and the fifth year’s weighed
Only a pound – Septicius’ work, ill-made
Into the bargain. Next I was reduced
To an eight-ounce oblong salad-platter; soon
It was a miniature cup that tipped the scales
At even less. A tiny two-ounce spoon
Was the eighth year’s surprise. The ninth, at length,
And grudgingly, disgorged a pick for snails
Lighter than a needle. Now, I note, the tenth
Has come and gone with nothing in its train.
I miss the old four pounds. Let’s start again!
Marcus Valerius Martialis (Martial)
The greatest Christmas poem is The Journey of the Magi by TS Eliot and two of the best are Minstrel’s Song by Ted Hughes and Well, So That Is That by WH Auden. They are too long to include here but you should seek them out, browsing on the net as is the way of the world these days, and read them over to yourself and family on Christmas Day. Gifts that last better even than Martial’s good silver plate.
