Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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 on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down
'A Christmas Carol' poem
The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed
Where the Virgin-Mother lay:
And now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung,
A Mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.
They told her how a glorious light,
Streaming from a heavenly throng.
Around them shone, suspending night!
While sweeter than a mother's song,
Blest Angels heralded the Savior's birth,
Glory to God on high! and Peace on Earth.
She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the Babe she pressed:
And while she cried, the Babe is mine!
The milk rushed faster to her breast:
Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn;
Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born.
Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace,
Poor, simple, and of low estate!
That strife should vanish, battle cease,
O why should this thy soul elate?
Sweet Music's loudest note, the Poet's story,
Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?
And is not War a youthful king,
A stately Hero clad in mail?
Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;
Him Earth's majestic monarchs hail
Their friends, their playmate! and his bold bright eye
Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.
Tell this in some more courtly scene,
To maids and youths in robes of state!
I am a woman poor and mean,
And wherefore is my soul elate.
War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father's tears his child!
A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,
He kills the sire and starves the son;
The husband kills, and from her board
Steals all his widow's toil had won;
Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away
All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.
Then wisely is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease:
I'm poor and of low estate,
The Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn:
Peace, Peace on Earth! The Prince of Peace is born!
Gilbert Keith Chesterton's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Christmas Carol by Gilbert Keith Chesterton )
- Do you have a bird?, Floy Dy (Floyd) Ra (Floydson)
- Frydenlund, Edward Kofi Louis
- The Limit Of Money., Tony Adah
- Haiku ' Help ', miken newman
- Part Of Nature, Edward Kofi Louis
- Hope, Khairul Ahsan
- Lawful And Right, Edward Kofi Louis
- 'La Zona 37', Edward Kofi Louis
- Falling Down, Edward Kofi Louis
- FIRST LOVE, Colin Ian Jeffery
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- November, Thomas Hood
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Robert Louis Stevenson
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)