In this post, we will explore Christian Christmas poems about Jesus that you can enjoy during the holiday season.
Christmas is a time when Christians around the world celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. It is a time for reflection, joy, and giving thanks. This year, why not take some time to read through some beautiful religious Christmas poems that celebrate the true meaning of Christmas? These poems will inspire you to reflect on the gift of Jesus Christ, and to rejoice in His amazing love.
Christmas time has always been a special time for me since it was the time I came to the Lord when I was 15 years old. I truly learned the meaning of Christmas and saw everything in a new light. I love these poems because they bring it all back to Jesus! No santa,no reindeer, no elves…all about the King of Kings!

More Posts On Christmas
- 17 Fascinating Facts About the Birth of Jesus
- 27 Christmas Blessings To Share During the Holidays [With Images]
- The Symbolic Meaning behind Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh
- 27 Powerful Prayers for Christmas
- 11 Unusual Facts about the Magi in the Bible
- 7 Christmas Team Building Activities Everyone Will Love
Christian Christmas Poems
In this collection of Christian Christmas poems, we have a little mix of modern poems and some classic ones as well. The newer poems won’t have the author’s years next to them. My goal is that all these poems would give the true meaning of Christmas. I hope you enjoy them and that they work well for Christmas cards, gifts, or to share at an event or party.
If you would like to check out a poem that has Christmas and Easter in it click here: The Sand Dollar Story
On Christmas Day
Melissa Tumino
A small babe within a manager lay The hope of all nations was born on Christmas day A King in swaddling clothes Here to heal the world of it's woes Oh, how great is Christmas day That my wandering heart no longer strays I found my peace in Him alone The babe who now sits on a throne God's Son brought to all So, that He could restore us from the fall Praise and glory to the King Let the angels rejoice and shepherds play their string For a small babe within a manager lay The hope of all nations was born on Christmas day

Let Us Rejoice
Unknown
Let us rejoice on this day The birth of our Savior Jesus Christ He came to save us from our sin And bring us everlasting life Now let us all lift up our voice In joyous praise and adoration For on this day a King was born Who will rule with love and compassion! A day for peace and love to reign And may it be a reminder to us Of the joy that Jesus brings!
Christmas Giving
Iris W. Bray
Christmas is for giving And for showing that we care, For honouring the Christ Child With the loving gifts we share The wise men gave of riches; The shepherds, faith and love. Each gift, in its own measure, Was smiled on from above. Let every gift be treasured; Not always size or price Determines the extent of love And willing sacrifice. Handsome gifts with festive trim Brings smiles of sweet content, But modest gifts of humble means Are ofttimes heaven sent. Whether it be large or small Each gift will share in part The message of true Christmas joy If given from the heart!
The True Meaning Of Christmas
Brian K. Walters
In today's' day and time, It's easy to lose sight, Of the true meaning of Christmas And one special night. When we go shopping, We say 'How much will it cost? ' Then the true meaning of Christmas, Somehow becomes lost. Amidst the tinsel, glitter And ribbons of gold, We forget about the child, Born on a night so cold. The children look for Santa In his big, red sleigh Never thinking of the child Whose bed was made of hay? In reality, When we look into the night sky, We don't see a sleigh But a star, burning bright and high. A faithful reminder, Of that night so long ago, And of the child we call Jesus, Whose love, the world would know.
A Christmas Carol Poem
Gilbert Keith Chesterton 1874 – 1936
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
Christmas Eve
Christina Rossetti 1830 – 1894
Christmas has a darkness Brighter than the blazing noon, Christmas has a chillness Warmer than the heat of June, Christmas has a beauty Lovelier than the world can show: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low. Earth, strike up your music, Birds that sing and bells that ring; Heaven has answering music For all angels soon to sing: Earth, put on your whitest Bridal robe of spotless snow: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low.

The Holy Night
Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806-1861
We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem; The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Toward the newly Born: The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks Brought their visionary looks, As yet in their astonied hearing rung The strange sweet angel-tonge: The magi of the East, in sandals worn, Knelt reverent, sweeping round, With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh, and gold These baby hands were impotent to hold: So let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state. Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!
Nativity, a Christmas Poem
John Donne 1572–1631
Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb, Now leaves His well-belov’d imprisonment, There He hath made Himself to His intent Weak enough, now into the world to come; But O, for thee, for Him, hath the inn no room? Yet lay Him in this stall, and from the Orient, Stars and wise men will travel to prevent The effect of Herod’s jealous general doom. Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith’s eyes, how He Which fills all place, yet none holds Him, doth lie? Was not His pity towards thee wondrous high, That would have need to be pitied by thee? Kiss Him, and with Him into Egypt go, With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe.
Christmas Bells
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807–1882
I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Till ringing, singing on its way, The world revolved from night to day, A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, good-will to men! Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South, And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, good-will to men! It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, good-will to men! And in despair I bowed my head; “There is no peace on earth,” I said; “For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!” Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity
John Milton 1608–1674
I This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. II That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, And that far-beaming blaze ozaf majesty, Wherewith he wont at Heaven’s high council-table To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside, and, here with us to be, Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. III Say, Heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, To welcome him to this his new abode, Now while the heaven, by the Sun’s team untrod, Hath took no print of the approaching light, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? IV See how from far upon the Eastern road The star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet! Oh! run; prevent them with thy humble ode, And lay it lowly at his blessèd feet; Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, And join thy voice unto the Angel Quire, From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire. The Hymn I It was the winter wild, While the heaven-born child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature, in awe to him, Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun, her lusty Paramour. II Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow, And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded, that her Maker’s eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities. III But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace: She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere, His ready Harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; And, waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land. IV No war, or battail’s sound, Was heard the world around; The idle spear and shield were high uphung; The hookèd chariot stood, Unstained with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armèd throng; And Kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. V But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began. The winds, with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kissed, Whispering new joys to the mild Ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. VI The stars, with deep amaze, Stand fixed in steadfast gaze, Bending one way their precious influence, And will not take their flight, For all the morning light, Or Lucifer that often warned them thence; But in their glimmering orbs did glow, Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. VII And, though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head of shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need: He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright Throne or burning axletree could bear. VIII The Shepherds on the lawn, Or ere the point of dawn, Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; Full little thought they than That the mighty Pan Was kindly come to live with them below: Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. IX When such music sweet Their hearts and ears did greet As never was by mortal finger strook, Divinely-warbled voice Answering the stringèd noise, As all their souls in blissful rapture took: The air, such pleasure loth to lose, With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. X Nature, that heard such sound Beneath the hollow round Of Cynthia’s seat the airy Region thrilling, Now was almost won To think her part was done, And that her reign had here its last fulfilling: She knew such harmony alone Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier union. XI At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light, That with long beams the shamefaced Night arrayed; The helmèd Cherubim And sworded Seraphim Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed, Harping in loud and solemn quire, With unexpressive notes, to Heaven’s newborn Heir. XII Such music (as ’tis said) Before was never made, But when of old the Sons of Morning sung, While the Creator great His constellations set, And the well-balanced World on hinges hung, And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep. XIII Ring out, ye crystal spheres! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time; And let the bass of heaven’s deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort of the angelic symphony. XIV For, if such holy song Enwrap our fancy long, Time will run back and fetch the Age of Gold; And speckled Vanity Will sicken soon and die, And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions of the peering day. XV Yes, Truth and Justice then Will down return to men, The enamelled arras of the rainbow wearing; And Mercy set between, Throned in celestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; And Heaven, as at some festival, Will open wide the gates of her high palace-hall. XVI But wisest Fate says No, This must not yet be so; The Babe lies yet in smiling infancy That on the bitter cross Must redeem our loss, So both himself and us to glorify: Yet first, to those chained in sleep, The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep, XVII With such a horrid clang As on Mount Sinai rang, While the red fire and smouldering clouds outbrake: The aged Earth, aghast With terror of that blast, Shall from the surface to the centre shake, When, at the world’s last sessiön, The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his throne. XVIII And then at last our bliss Full and perfect is, But now begins; for from this happy day The Old Dragon under ground, In straiter limits bound, Not half so far casts his usurpèd sway, And, wroth to see his Kingdom fail, Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail. XIX The Oracles are dumb; No voice or hideous hum Runs through the archèd roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, Will hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathèd spell, Inspires the pale-eyed Priest from the prophetic cell. XX The lonely mountains o’er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; Edgèd with poplar pale, From haunted spring, and dale The parting Genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn The Nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. XXI In consecrated earth, And on the holy hearth, The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint; In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And the chill marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. XXII Peor and Baälim Forsake their temples dim, With that twice-battered god of Palestine; And moonèd Ashtaroth, Heaven’s Queen and Mother both, Now sits not girt with tapers’ holy shine: The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn; In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz mourn. XXIII And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals’ ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. XXIV Nor is Osiris seen In Memphian grove or green, Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud; Nor can he be at rest Within his sacred chest; Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; In vain, with timbreled anthems dark, The sable-stolèd Sorcerers bear his worshiped ark. XXV He feels from Juda’s land The dreaded Infant’s hand; The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Nor all the gods beside Longer dare abide, Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Our Babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands control the damnèd crew. XXVI So, when the Sun in bed, Curtained with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking shadows pale Troop to the infernal jail, Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave, And the yellow-skirted Fays Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved maze. XXVII But see! the Virgin blest Hath laid her Babe to rest, Time is our tedious song should here have ending: Heaven’s youngest-teemèd star Hath fixed her polished car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending; And all about the courtly stable Bright-harnessed Angels sit in order serviceable.

Melissa is a passionate minister, speaker and an ongoing learner of the Bible. She has been involved in church and vocational ministry for over 18 years. And is the founder of Think About Such Things. She has the heart to equip the saints by helping them get into the Word of God and fall more in love with Jesus. She also enjoys family, cooking, and reading.
She has spoken in churches in California, Oregon, Texas, and Mexico and has been featured in Guidepost Magazine and All Recipes Magazine. Read More…