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Year 1 Poetry Anthology: December

Compiled and arranged by the AmblesideOnline Advisory, April, 2005 with revisions made August, 2021

Purchase AO's poetry Anthology, Volume 1: Beginnings, which contains the entire 220 of AO's Year 1 poems for all twelve months, in paperback or Kindle ($amzn) (K)

     01 The Coin, by Sara Teasdale, 1884-1933
     02 You Never Can Tell, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, 1855-1919
     03 Song of the Holly, by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
     04 Lullaby, by Edith Nesbit 1858-1924
     05 Dust of Snow, by Robert Frost, 1874-1963
     06 Snow Song, by Sara Teasdale, 1884-1933
     07 The Cottager to her Infant, by Dorothy Wordsworth, 1771--1855
     08 Good Night! Good Night! By Victor Hugo, 1802-1885
     09 Snow-flakes, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882
     10 Christmas Day and Every Day, by George MacDonald, 1824-1905
     11 The Time Draws Near, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1809-1883
     12 A Christmas Carol, by G.K.Chesterton, 1874-1936
     13 The Christmas Child, by George MacDonald, 1824-1905
     14 Christmas Day, by Christina Rossetti, 1830-1894
     15 Christmas Hymn, by Eugene Field, 1850-1895
     16 Carol, by William Canton, 1845-1926
     17 A Christmas Carol, 1859, by Christina Rossetti, 1830-1894
     18 Winter Sweetness, by Langston Hughes, 1901-1967
     19 The Bells, by Edgar Allan Poe, 1809-1849
     20 Ring Out, Wild Bells, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1809-1883
     21 A Happy New Year, by Margaret Sangster, 1838-1912

Click here to view an Index of Poets included in AO's Year 1 Anthology.

01 The Coin, by Sara Teasdale, 1884-1933
      from Flame and Shadow, 1920

Into my heart's treasury
     I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
     Nor a thief purloin,--
Oh, better than the minting
     Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
     Of a lovely thing.

02 You Never Can Tell, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, 1855-1919

You never can tell when you send a word,
     Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an Archer blind, be it cruel or kind,
     Just where it may chance to go.
It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend,
     Tipped with its poison or balm;
To a stranger's heart in life's great mart
     It may carry its pain or its calm.

You never can tell when you do an act
     Just what the result may be;
But with every deed you are sowing a seed
     Though the harvest you may not see.
Each kindly act is an acorn dropped
     In God's productive soil;
You may not know, but the tree shall grow,
     With shelter for those who toil.

You never can tell what your thoughts will do
     In bringing you hate or love;
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings
     Are swifter than a dove.
They follow the law of the universe
     Each thing must create its kind;
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back
     Whatever went out of your mind.

03 Song of the Holly, by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
            Then heigh ho! the holly!
            This life is most jolly!

04 Lullaby, by Edith Nesbit, 1858-1924
      from A Pomander of Verse, 1895

          Sleep, sleep, my treasure,
          The long day's pleasure
Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep;
          The garden still is
          Alight with lilies,
But all the daisies are fast asleep.

          Sleep, sleep, my darling,
          Dawn wakes the starling,
The sparrow stirs when he sees day break;
          But all the meadow
          Is wrapped in shadow,
And you must sleep till the daisies wake!

05 Dust of Snow, by Robert Frost, 1874-1963
      from Dust of Snow, 1923

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

06 from Snow Song, by Sara Teasdale, 1884-1933
      from Helen of Troy and Other Poems, 1911

Fairy snow, fairy snow,
Blowing, blowing everywhere,
     Would that I
     Too, could fly
Lightly, lightly through the air.

07 The Cottager to her Infant, by Dorothy Wordsworth, 1771--1855

The days are cold, the nights are long,
The North Wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again upon my breast;
All merry things are now at rest,
            Save thee, my pretty love!

The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,
The crickets long have ceased their mirth;
There's nothing stirring in the house
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse,
            Then why so busy thou?

Nay! start not at that sparkling light;
'Tis but the moon that shines so bright
On the window pane bedropped with rain:
Then, little Darling! sleep again,
            And wake when it is day.

08 Good Night! Good Night! By Victor Hugo, 1802-1885

Good night! Good night!
Far flies the light;
But still God's love
Shall flame above,
Making all bright.
Good night! Good night!

09 Snow-flakes, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882

Out of the bosom of the Air,
     Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
     Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
          Silent, and soft, and slow
          Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
     Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
     In the white countenance confession,
          The troubled sky reveals
          The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
     Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
     Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
          Now whispered and revealed
          To wood and field.

10 Christmas Day and Every Day, by George MacDonald, 1824-1905

Star high
Baby low:
'Twixt the two
Wise men go;
Find the baby,
Grasp the star
Heirs of all things
Near and far!

11 The Time Draws Near, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1809-1883

The time draws near the birth of Christ:
     The moon is hid; the night is still;
     The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.

Four voices of four hamlets round,
     From far and near, on mead and moor,
     Swell out and fail, as if a door
Swell out between me and the sound:

Each voice four changes on the wind,
     That now dilate, and now decrease,
     Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,
Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.

12 A Christmas Carol, by G.K.Chesterton, 1874-1936
      included in "The Expository Times: Volume 19" 1908

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.

13 The Christmas Child, by George MacDonald, 1824-1905

"Little one, who straight hast come
Down the heavenly stair,
Tell us all about your home,
And the father there."

"He is such a one as I,
Like as like can be.
Do his will, and, by and by,
Home and him you'll see."

14 Christmas Day, by Christina Rossetti, 1830-1894

A baby is a harmless thing
     And wins our hearts with one accord,
And Flower of Babies was their King,
     Jesus Christ our Lord:
Lily of lilies He
Upon His Mother's knee;
Rose of roses, soon to be
Crowned with thorns on leafless tree.

A lamb is innocent and mild
     And merry on the soft green sod;
And Jesus Christ, the Undefiled,
     Is the Lamb of God:
Only spotless He
Upon his Mother's knee;
White and ruddy, soon to be
Sacrificed for you and me.

Nay, lamb is not so sweet a word,
     Nor lily half so pure a name;
Another name our hearts hath stirred,
     Kindling them to flame:
'Jesus' certainly
Is music and melody:
Heart with heart in harmony
Carol we and worship we.

15 Christmas Hymn, by Eugene Field, 1850-1895
      from A Little Book of Western Verse, 1889

          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,--
By Bethlehem's star that brightly beamed,
     By all the heavenly signs that be,
We know that Israel is redeemed;
          That on this morn
          The Christ is born
That saveth you and saveth me!

          Sing, O my heart!
Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
Whereon the blessed Prince is born!
     And as thy songs shall be of love,
So let my deeds be charity,--
     By the dear Lord that reigns above,
By Him that died upon the tree,
          By this fair morn
          Whereon is born
The Christ that saveth all and me!

16 Carol, by William Canton, 1845-1926
      from Christmas Carols Old and New, 1918

When the herds were watching
In the midnight chill,
Came a spotless lambkin
From the heavenly hill.

Snow was on the mountains,
And the wind was cold,
When from God's own garden
Dropped a rose of gold.

When 'twas bitter winter,
Houseless and forlorn
In a star-lit stable
Christ the Babe was born.

Welcome, heavenly lambkin;
Welcome, golden rose;
Alleluia, Baby,
In the swaddling clothes!

17 A Christmas Carol, 1859, by Christina Rossetti, 1830-1894

Before the paling of the stars,
     Before the winter morn,
     Before the earliest cockcrow
     Jesus Christ was born:
          Born in a stable,
     Cradled in a manger,
In the world His Hands had made
          Born a Stranger.

Priest and King lay fast asleep
     In Jerusalem,
Young and old lay fast asleep
     In crowded Bethlehem:
Saint and Angel, Ox and ass,
     Kept a watch together,
     Before the Christmas daybreak
     In the winter weather.

Jesus on His Mother's breast
     In the stable cold,
Spotless Lamb of God was He,
     Shepherd of the Fold:
Let us kneel with Mary Maid,
     With Joseph bent and hoary,
With Saint and Angel, Ox and ass,
     To hail the King of Glory.

18 Winter Sweetness, by Langston Hughes, 1901-1967
from The Brownies Book, January, 1921

The little house is sugar.
Its roof with snow is piled.
And from its tiny window,
Peeps a maple-sugar child.

19 from The Bells, by Edgar Allan Poe, 1809-1849

      Hear the sledges with the bells--
            Silver bells--
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
      How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
            In the icy air of night!
      While the stars that oversprinkle
      All the heavens, seem to twinkle
            With a crystalline delight;
      Keeping time, time, time,
      In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
      From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
            Bells, bells, bells,--
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

20 from Ring Out, Wild Bells, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1809-1883

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
      The flying cloud, the frosty light;
      The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
      Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
      The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
      The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
      Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

21 A Happy New Year, by Margaret Sangster, 1838-1912

Coming, coming, coming!
      Listen! perhaps you'll hear
Over the snow the bugles blow
      To welcome the glad new year.
In the steeple tongues are swinging,
There are merry sleigh bells ringing,
And the people for joy are singing,
      It's coming, coming near.

Flying, sighing, dying,
      Going away tonight,
Weary and old, its story told,
      The year that was full and bright.
Oh, we are half sorry it's leaving
Good-by has a sound of grieving;
But its work is done and its weaving;
      God speed its parting flight!

Tripping, slipping, skipping,
      Like a child in its wooing grace,
With never a tear and never a fear,
      And a light in its laughing face;
With hands held out to greet us,
With gay little steps to meet us,
With sweet eyes that entreat us,
      The new year comes to its place.

Coming, coming, coming!
      Promising lovely things--
The gold and the gray of the summer day,
      The winter with fleecy-wings;
Promising swift birds glancing,
And the patter of raindrops dancing,
And the sunbeam's arrowy lancing,
      Dear gifts the new year brings.

Coming, coming, coming!
      The world is a vision of white;
From the powdered eaves to the sere-brown leaves
      That are hidden out of sight.
In the steeple tongues are swinging,
The bells are merrily ringing,
And "Happy New Year" we're singing,
      For the old year goes tonight.

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