Archive for the ‘christmas poems’ Category

At the right city, In the right time,

By the right mother, From the right line,

To the right nation, In the right tribe;

Christ came to earth humanity to imbibe.   

– eab, Jan. ‘81  [Gal 4.4]

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The shepherds have returned

To wooly flocks on the hill

The inn keeper now wishes

He could his small inn fill

Mary, post-delivery

Is not longer pregnant, ill.

The world’s most famous morning now is past.


The wise men have returned

To their studies in the East

Herod has completed his

Contemplated blood “feast”

Joseph, Family in Egypt

Are “visitors” at least.

Jesus is a growing “toddler” at last. 


And you, friend, have returned

To living glad, or forlorn

Returned to shops and streets

Filled with scurry and loud horn

Remember, remember

Christ for you was gladly born.

Hold to His redeeming love, hold it fast!

– eab, 1/5/08


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WORDS (24th card)

I’m sure it has already come to light,

That what you now hold in your hand,

Started out as a very plain post card,

(On which some fellow acted like a “bard”)

Card-stock from trees grown in our land.


But its not just a plain card now, right? Right!


And though it cannot replace a handshake,

(Nor the of “Alexander Graham” take,)

Communication it still dares!


Words come from this card, clad in “black and light.”

Words which hurry along cold miles

To say, “Oh, we remember those good years”

(Who could forget Blessings, Hard Work, and Tears?)

Words say, “We’d love to see YOUR smiles.”


Christ also, on that far Judean night,

Appeared as a “plain” Jewish Child

He seemed to be made of regular stock;

(Till He gave, at twelve, the doctors a shock.)

He was the Father’s, meek, mild.


God expressed His Word – expressed it so right.

The Divine Logos showed His love.

The Word, His Word, was wonderful we know,

(Far exceeding what this small card can show.)

Because His Word was from above.


With thoughts, terms, phrases a writer must fight;

The Lord with majestic insight

Has His syntax air-tight.

(God’s words delight!)


– eab, Dec. ‘89

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John Byrom on 12/25/1745 presented this carol to his daughter.  Byrom attended Cambridge (graduated MA) & became a Fellow of Trinity College.  He declining to take Holy Orders & married Elizabeth Byrom (a cousin).  He earned a living teaching shorthand (invented his own system).  In 1723, he was elected Fellow of the Royal Society.  Byrom was born 2/29/1691 & died 9/26/1763 – both at Manchester, England. 

He wrote several hymns but wrote this one for Dolly.

Christians, awake, salute the happy morn Whereon the Savior of the world was born. Rise to adore the mystery of love Which hosts of angels chanted from above, With them the joyful tidings first begun Of God incarnate and the virgin’s son.

(5 more stanzas follow see http://www.hymntime.com/tch/htm/c/a/s/casthamo.htm for music)

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HE WAS OUTSIDE (23rd card)

He was born outside the warmth of

His heavenly home.

He was born outside the INN doors,

Born where cattle roam.


He was born outside the house in Nazareth,

Where He’d later play.

He was born outside, outside it all,

On that Special Day.


He was run outside of Judah’s boundaries

When a child.

He was found outside the clan circle;

Giving answers mild.


He fed them outside, five thousand plus;

After He preached the Word.

He was oft outside, outside,

Till the poorest sinner heard.


He was lead outside

Old Jerusalem to be killed.

He was left outside the city walls;

Because it was willed.


He thus died outside, for all our sins;

He had none of His own.

He died SO outside, outside,

The human race He had sown.


He is now inside, inside my life

And there to stay.

He is now inside, our glad heart door –

Christmas every day.


He is now inside, of every saint,

In all the world around.

He’s forever inside,

BECAUSE outside He then was found!

– eab, Dec. ’88

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Its symmetrical shape points toward the sky

Like no other.

And that could be one reason why,

We would rather,

Use it for our Christmas-time tree.

It points toward God, you see.


Its needles are always the same color

The year ’round.

Not affected by the changing weather.

It might be found,

That this would be good for you and me,

To be as changeless, as we could be.


It looks in March as it did in June.

Little age shows.

And its essence won’t be changing soon,

If no foes.

It’s an example to be seen free,

That gives us a glimpse of Eternity.  

– eab, Dec. ’65

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James Montgomery published 12/24/1816, his now famous “Angels From the Realms of Glory.”  It was printed in the Sheffield Iris, the newspaper he edited for 31 years.  He was born to John Montgomery, a Moravian minister at Irvine, Ayrshire, Scotland 11/4/1771. His parents died (when James was young) as missionaries to West Indies & he was a strong supported of missions. Twice while editing his paper he was imprisoned; once reprinting a song in commemoration of the fall of the Bastille & the second time for giving an account of a riot in Sheffield.  He died 4/30/1854.

 Verses omitted from many hymnals:

5. Sinners, wrung with true repentance, Doomed for guilt to endless pains, Justice now revokes the sentence, Mercy calls you; break your chains.

Refrain: Come and worship, come and worship, Worship Christ, the newborn king.

6. Though an Infant now we view Him, He shall fill His Father’s throne, Gather all the nations to Him; Every knee shall then bow down:

7. All creation, join in praising God, the Father, Spirit, Son, Evermore your voices raising To th’eternal Three in One.

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