Christmas-Tide.

    Let working-clothes be laid aside,
And Industry in festal garb arrayed;
Let busy brain and hand from toil and trade
    Relax at Christmas-tide.

    As moments pass by dial, so
Let gifts go round the happy circle where
In giving and receiving each may share,
    And mutual kindness show.

    The meaning deep, like mystery,
That lies in holly-bough or mistletoe,
May thousands never fathom - yet who know
    And hail the Christmas-tree.

    So strong a hold on human thought
Has this glad day that seasons all the year
With the rich flavoring of hearty cheer,
    It ne'er shall be forgot.

    It is the milestone on life's road
Where we may lay our burdens down, and take
A look at souvenirs, for love's dear sake
    So prettily bestowed.

    Upon its shining tablet we may write -
If, like the good Samaritan, in deed -
A record that the angel band shall read
    With impulse of delight.

    And this is why on Christmas morn
The world should smile and wear its brightest glow:
Because some nineteen hundred years ago
    A little child was born.

Hattie Howard

Hattie Howard is recognized for her significant contributions to 19th-century American poetry. Her work, characterized by its wit and lyrical quality, often explored themes of nature, love, and social issues. She had a unique voice that resonated with many of her contemporaries and continues to be appreciated for its depth and artistry.

Hattie Howard

The Taxidermist.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

Rutha.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

Never Had a Chance

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

Storm-bound.

Hattie Howard, Simple Poetry

English

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Christmas at Church.

    'Twas drawing near the holiday,
    When piety and pity met
In whisp'ring council, and agreed
That Christmas time, in homes of need,
    Should be remembered in a way
    They never could forget.


    Then noble generosity
    Took youth and goodness by the hand,
And planned a thousand charming ways
To celebrate this best of days,
    While hearts were held in sympathy
    By love's encircling band.

    So multitudes together came,
    Like wandering magi from the East
With precious gifts unto the King,
With every good and perfect thing
    To satisfy a shivering frame
    Or amplify a feast.

The angels had looked long and far
    The happy scene to parallel,
When through the sanctuary door
Were carried gifts...

Hattie Howard

Christmas Bells.

Ring out, O bells, in joyful chime!
    Again we hail the Christmas time;
In melting, mellow atmosphere,
    The crown and glory of the year.

When bitterness, distrust, and awe
    Dissolve, like ice in winter's thaw,
Beneath the genial touches of
    Amenity, good will, and love.

When flowers of affection grow,
    Like edelweiss mid alpine snow,
In lives severe and beautiless,
    Unused to warmth or tenderness.

Let goodness, grace, and gratitude
    Revive in music's interlude,
And pæan notes, till time shall cease,
    Proclaim the blessed reign of peace.

Ring, Christmas bells! for at the sound
    Sweet memories of Him abound
Who laid aside a diadem
    To be the babe of Bethlehem.

Hattie Howard

Christmas Fancies

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,
    And etched on vacant places
    Are half-forgotten faces
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know -
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.

Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near,
We see, with strange emotion, that is not free from fear,
    That continent Elysian
    Long vanished from our vision,
Youth's lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear,
Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near.

When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth,
The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth,
    And draws from youth's recesses
    Some memory it possesses,
...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Christmas Fancies

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago.
        And etched on vacant places,
        Are half forgotten faces
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know -
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.

Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near,
We see, with strange emotion that is not free from fear,
        That continent Elysian
        Long vanished from our vision,
Youth's lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear,
Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near.

When gloomy gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth,
The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth,
        And draws from youth's recesses
        Some mem...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Christmas.

How did they keep his birthday then,
The little fair Christ, so long ago?
O, many there were to be housed and fed,
And there was no place in the inn, they said,
So into the manger the Christ must go,
To lodge with the cattle and not with men.

The ox and the ass they munched their hay
They munched and they slumbered, wondering not,
And out in the midnight cold and blue
The shepherds slept, and the sheep slept too,
Till the angels' song and the bright star ray
Guided the wise men to the spot.

But only the wise men knelt and praised,
And only the shepherds came to see,
And the rest of the world cared not at all
For the little Christ in the oxen's stall;
And we are angry and amazed
That such a dull, hard thing should be!

How do we keep ...

Susan Coolidge

Christmas

The glowing censers, and their rich perfume;
The splendid vestments, and the sounding choir;
The gentle sigh of soul-subduing piety;
The alms which open-hearted charity
Bestows, with kindly glance; and those
Which e'en stern avarice.
Though with unwilling hand,
Seems forced to tender; an offering sweet
To the bright throne of mercy; mark
This day a festival.

And well our Christian sires of old
Loved when the year its course had roll'd,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all its hospitable train.
Domestic and religious rite
Gave honour to the holy night.
On Christmas eve the bells were rung,
On Christmas-eve the mass was sung;
That only night in all the year
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donn'd her Kirtl...

Walter Scott