A Christmas Carol

    Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap,
        The sun shone in his hair;
    And this was how she saw, mayhap,
        The crown already there.

    For she sang: "Sleep on, my little king;
        Bad Herod dares not come;
    Before thee sleeping, holy thing,
        The wild winds would be dumb."

    "I kiss thy hands, I kiss thy feet,
        My child, so long desired;
    Thy hands will never be soiled, my sweet;
        Thy feet will never be tired."

    "For thou art the king of men, my son;
        Thy crown I see it plain!
    And men shall worship thee, every one,
        And cry, Glory! Amen!"

    Babe Jesus he opened his eyes wide--
        At Mary looked her lord.
    Mother Mary stinted her song and sighed;
        Babe Jesus said never a word.

George MacDonald

George MacDonald (1824–1905) was a Scottish author, poet, and Christian minister best known for his fairy tales and fantasy novels. He was a pioneer in the fantasy genre, influencing notable writers such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. His major works include "Phantastes" and "Lilith," as well as numerous poems and other literary works. MacDonald's writings are characterized by their imaginative qualities and deep spiritual insight.

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English

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A Christmas Carol

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at him.
And all the stars looked down.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

A Christmas Carol For 1862

THE YEAR OF THE TROUBLE IN LANCASHIRE.

    The skies are pale, the trees are stiff,
        The earth is dull and old;
    The frost is glittering as if
        The very sun were cold.
    And hunger fell is joined with frost,
        To make men thin and wan:
    Come, babe, from heaven, or we are lost;
        Be born, O child of man.

    The children cry, the women shake,
        The strong men stare about;
    They sleep when they should be awake,
        They wake ere night is out.
    For they have lost their heritage--
        No sweat is on their brow:
    Come, babe, and bring them work and wage;
        Be born, and save us now.

    Across the sea, beyond our sight,
        Roars on the fierce debate;
    The men go d...

George MacDonald

Christmas Carol

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 ...

Sara Teasdale

Translations. - Christmas. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Jesus we now must laud and sing,
The maiden Mary's son and king,
Far as the blessed sun doth shine,
And reaches to earth's utmost line.[1]

[Footnote 1: Luther's own construction.]

The blessed maker of all we view
On him a servant's body drew,
The flesh to save at flesh's cost,
Else his creation had been lost.

From heaven high the Godlike grace
In the chaste mother found a place;
A secret pledge a maiden bore--
A thing to earth unknown before.

The tender heart, house modest, low,
Straightway a temple of God did grow:
Whom never man hath touched or known
By God's word she with child is grown.

The noble mother hath brought forth
Whom Gabriel promised to the earth;
Him John did greet in joyous way
While in his moth...

George MacDonald

A Christmas Hymn

        Near where the shepherds watched by night
            And heard the angels o'er them,
        The wise men saw the starry light
            Stand still at last before them.
        No armored castle there to ward
            His precious life from danger,
        But, wrapped in common cloth, our Lord
            Lay in a lowly manger.
        No booming bells proclaimed his birth,
            No armies marshalled by,
        No iron thunders shook the earth,
            No rockets clomb the sky;
        The temples builded in his name
            Were shapeless granite then,
        And all the choirs that sang his fame
            Were later breeds of men.
        But, while the world about him slept,
            Nor cared that he was born,

John Charles McNeill

A Christmas Carol.

In the bleak mid-winter
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 mid-winter
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 mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Throng'd the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped h...

Christina Georgina Rossetti