Hymn

(FROM THE GERMAN OF MARTIN LUTHER)

O heart of mine! lift up thine eyes
And see who in yon manger lies!
Of perfect form, of face divine--
It is the Christ-child, heart of mine!

O dearest, holiest Christ-child, spread
Within this heart of mine thy bed;
Then shall my breast forever be
A chamber consecrate to thee!

Beat high to-day, O heart of mine,
And tell, O lips, what joys are thine;
For with your help shall I prolong
Old Bethlehem's sweetest cradle-song.

Glory to God, whom this dear Child
Hath by His coming reconciled,
And whose redeeming love again
Brings peace on earth, good will to men!

Eugene Field

Eugene Field was an American writer, best known for his children's poetry and humorous essays. Born in St. Louis, Missouri, he was known as the 'Poet of Childhood' due to his well-loved poems for children. After his mother's death in 1856, he was raised by a cousin in Amherst, Massachusetts. Field studied at several universities but never graduated. His most famous poems include 'Wynken, Blynken, and Nod' and 'The Duel.' Field worked as a journalist and editor in various cities, including Chicago, where he spent the last years of his life.

Eugene Field

The Bibliomaniac's Prayer

Eugene Field, Simple Poetry

To Robin Goodfellow

Eugene Field, Simple Poetry

Little Boy Blue

Eugene Field, Simple Poetry

Christmas Eve

Eugene Field, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Christmas Hymn

Sing, Christmas bells!
Say to the earth this is the morn
Whereon our Savior-King is born;
Sing to all men,--the bond, the free,
The rich, the poor, the high, the low,
The little child that sports in glee,
The aged folk that tottering go,--
Proclaim the morn
That Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!

Sing, angel host!
Sing of the star that God has placed
Above the manger in the East;
Sing of the glories of the night,
The virgin's sweet humility,
The Babe with kingly robes bedight,--
Sing to all men where'er they be
This Christmas morn;
For Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!

Sing, sons of earth!
O ransomed seed of Adam, sing!
God liveth, and we have a king!
The curse is gone, the bond are free...

Eugene Field

Christmas Hymn

Sing, Christmas bells!
Say to the earth this is the morn
Whereon our Saviour-King is born;
Sing to all men--the bond, the free,
The rich, the poor, the high, the low--
The little child that sports in glee--
The aged folk that tottering go--
Proclaim the morn
That Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!

Sing, angel host!
Sing of the star that God has placed
Above the manger in the east;
Sing of the glories of the night,
The virgin's sweet humility,
The Babe with kingly robes bedight--
Sing to all men where'er they be
This Christmas morn,
For Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!

Sing, sons of earth!
O ransomed seed of Adam, sing!
God liveth, and we have a King!
The curse is gone, the bond are free...

Eugene Field

Translations. - A Song Of The Little Child Jesus, For Children At Christmas. Taken Out Of The Second Chapter Of The Gospel Of St. Luke. (Luther's Song-Book.)

From heaven high I come to you,
I bring a story good and new:
Of goodly news so much I bring,
Of it I must both speak and sing.

To you a child is come this morn,
A child of chosen maiden born,
A little babe so sweet and mild
Your joy and bliss shall be that child.

'Tis the Lord Christ, our very God.
He will you ease of all your load;
He'll be himself your Saviour sure
And from all sinning make you pure.

He brings you all the news so glad
Which God the Father ready had--
That you shall in his heavenly house
Live now and evermore with us.

Take heed then to the token sure--
The crib, the swaddling clothes so poor:
The infant you shall find laid there
Who all the world doth hold and bear.

Hence let us all be gladso...

George MacDonald

Christmas Morning

The angel host that sped last night,
Bearing the wondrous news afar,
Came in their ever-glorious flight
Unto a slumbering little star.

"Awake and sing, O star!" they cried.
"Awake and glorify the morn!
Herald the tidings far and wide--
He that shall lead His flock is born!"

The little star awoke and sung
As only stars in rapture may,
And presently where church bells hung
The joyous tidings found their way.

"Awake, O bells! 't is Christmas morn--
Awake and let thy music tell
To all mankind that now is born
What Shepherd loves His lambkins well!"

Then rang the bells as fled the night
O'er dreaming land and drowsing deep,
And coming with the morning light,
They called, my child, to you asleep.

Sweetly and tenderly...

Eugene Field

Christmas Carols.

1.

Whoso hears a chiming for Christmas at the nighest,
Hears a sound like Angels chanting in their glee,
Hears a sound like palm-boughs waving in the highest,
Hears a sound like ripple of a crystal sea.

Sweeter than a prayer-bell for a saint in dying,
Sweeter than a death-bell for a saint at rest,
Music struck in Heaven with earth's faint replying,
"Life is good, and death is good, for Christ is Best."


2.

A holy, heavenly chime
Rings fulness in of time,
And on His Mother's breast
Our Lord God ever-Blest
Is laid a Babe at rest.

Stoop, Spirits unused to stoop,
Swoop, Angels, flying swoop,
Adoring as you gaze,
Uplifting hymns of praise, -
"Grace to the Full of Grace!"

The cave is cold and strait
T...

Christina Georgina Rossetti

O Night Of Nights! (Hymn)

"Let us now go even unto Bethlehem."

O Night of nights! O night
    Desired of man so long!
The ancient heavens fled forth in light
    To sing thee thy new song;
And shooting down the steep,
    To shepherd folk of old,
An angel, while they watch'd their sheep,
    Set foot beside the fold.

Lo! while as like to die
    Of that keen light he shed,
They look'd on his pure majesty,
    Amazed, and sore bestead;
Lo! while with words of cheer
    He bade their trembling cease,
The flocks of God swept sweetly near,
    And sang to them of peace.

All on the hillside grass
    That fulgent radiance fell,
So close those innocents did pass,
    Their words were heard right well;
Among the sheep, their wings
    Som...

Jean Ingelow