英文圣诞节诗歌

2020-04-25诗歌

  篇一:christmas love!

  is christmas dying?

  holly that hang from the door is disappearing,

  lights don’t shine so bright.

  christmas goodwill and spirit is hard to be found,

  feeling i’ve found my scrooge.

  is it now that i’ve grown i see a different picture,

  not so tinted in green and gifts.

  santa filling my stocking,

  everything such a dream through a child eyes.

  nativity plays being played at school,

  the birth of christ instilled into our lives.

  life is changing with so many different cultures and beliefs.

  will the true meaning be lost?

  when we have people digging a hole with their wallets.

  christmas is not about the biggest present,

  or how much money you’ve spent.

  christmas for me is about love,

  giving it through goodwill, with a smile or just being there.

  people may lose faith in religion,

  never lose faith in christmas,

  christmas is love!

  篇二:On Going Home For Christmas

  He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair;

  He never guessed they'd miss him, or he'd surely have been there;

  He couldn't see his mother or the lump that filled her throat,

  Or the tears that started falling as she read his hasty note;

  And he couldn't see his father, sitting sor- rowful and dumb,

  Or he never would have written that he thought he couldn't come.

  He little knew the gladness that his presence would have made,

  And the joy it would have given, or he never would have stayed.

  He didn't know how hungry had the little mother grown

  Once again to see her baby and to claim him for her own.

  He didn't guess the meaning of his visit Christmas Day

  Or he never would have written that he couldn't get away.

  He couldn't see the fading of the cheeks that once were pink,

  And the silver in the tresses; and he didn't stop to think

  How the years are passing swiftly, and next Christmas it might be

  There would be no home to visit and no mother dear to see.

  He didn't think about it -- I'll not say he didn't care.

  He was heedless and forgetful or he'd surely have been there.

  Just sit down and write a letter -- it will make their heart strings hum

  With a tune of perfect gladness -- if you'll tell them that you'll come.

的'

  篇一:christmas love!

  is christmas dying?

  holly that hang from the door is disappearing,

  lights don’t shine so bright.

  christmas goodwill and spirit is hard to be found,

  feeling i’ve found my scrooge.

  is it now that i’ve grown i see a different picture,

  not so tinted in green and gifts.

  santa filling my stocking,

  everything such a dream through a child eyes.

  nativity plays being played at school,

  the birth of christ instilled into our lives.

  life is changing with so many different cultures and beliefs.

  will the true meaning be lost?

  when we have people digging a hole with their wallets.

  christmas is not about the biggest present,

  or how much money you’ve spent.

  christmas for me is about love,

  giving it through goodwill, with a smile or just being there.

  people may lose faith in religion,

  never lose faith in christmas,

  christmas is love!

  篇二:On Going Home For Christmas

  He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair;

  He never guessed they'd miss him, or he'd surely have been there;

  He couldn't see his mother or the lump that filled her throat,

  Or the tears that started falling as she read his hasty note;

  And he couldn't see his father, sitting sor- rowful and dumb,

  Or he never would have written that he thought he couldn't come.

  He little knew the gladness that his presence would have made,

  And the joy it would have given, or he never would have stayed.

  He didn't know how hungry had the little mother grown

  Once again to see her baby and to claim him for her own.

  He didn't guess the meaning of his visit Christmas Day

  Or he never would have written that he couldn't get away.

  He couldn't see the fading of the cheeks that once were pink,

  And the silver in the tresses; and he didn't stop to think

  How the years are passing swiftly, and next Christmas it might be

  There would be no home to visit and no mother dear to see.

  He didn't think about it -- I'll not say he didn't care.

  He was heedless and forgetful or he'd surely have been there.

  Just sit down and write a letter -- it will make their heart strings hum

  With a tune of perfect gladness -- if you'll tell them that you'll come.

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