- Anna Maria Junus
Advent Blog Day 9: The Poetry of Christmas
Without you even realizing it, you enjoy the poetry of Christmas throughout December. And I'm not just talking about the "Night Before Christmas" or "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas". Most Christmas poetry is set to music that you hear and sing repeatedly through the season. However I thought I would share some poetry that didn't become music (as far as I know), or a children's cartoon. So three different poems, one about winter, one about Christ, and one about Santa.
Winter Time by Robert Louis Stevenson
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.
Celebrated poet Sara Teasdale won the Pulitzer Prize for her 1917 poetry collection Love Songs. I do not know which of her books this one comes from, but I've discovered that it has been made into a children's picture book.
Christmas Carol by Sara Teasdale
The kings they came from out the south,
All dressed in ermine fine; They bore Him gold and chrysoprase, And gifts of precious wine.
The shepherds came from out the north,
Their coats were brown and old;
They brought Him little new-born lambs—
They had not any gold.
The wise men came from out the east,
And they were wrapped in white;
The star that led them all the way
Did glorify the night.
The angels came from heaven high
And they were clad with wings;
And lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.
The kings they knocked upon the door,
The wise men entered in,
The shepherds followed after them
To hear the song begin.
The angels sang through all the night
Until the rising sun,
But little Jesus fell asleep
Before the song was done.
This poem was published in 1821 prior to the more famous Twas the Night Before Christmas. The author is anonymous (which likely means it was a woman) and so was the illustrator (another woman perhaps or the same one).
Old Santeclaus With Much Delight - Anonymous
Old SANTECLAUS with much delight
His reindeer drives this frosty night,
O’r chimney tops, and tracts of snow,
To bring his yearly gifts to you.
The steady friend of virtuous youth,
The friend of duty, and of truth,
Each Christmas eve he joys to come
Where peace and love have made their home.
Through many houses he has been,
And various beds and stockings seen;
Some, white as snow, and neatly mended,
Others, that seemed for pigs intended.
To some I gave a pretty doll,
To some a peg-top, or a ball;
To blow their eyes up, or their pockets.
Where e’re I found good girls or boys,
That hated quarrels, strife and noise,
I left an apple, or a tart,
Or wooden gun, or painted cart;
No drums to stun their Mother’s ear,
Nor swords to make their sisters fear;
But pretty books to store their mind
With knowledge of each various kind.
But where I found the children naughty,
In manners crude, in temper haughty,
Thankless to parents, liars, swearers,
Boxers, or cheats, or base tale-bearers,
I left a long, black, birchen rod,
Such as the dread command of GOD
Directs a Parent’s hand to use
When virtue’s path his sons refuse.
And there you go - your literary lesson for the day.
