Poems from America's past
A Christmas poetry collection
Release Date: December 25, 2025
Merry Christmas, dear readers
Christmas 1865 arrived with a spirit unlike any before. Across America, families gathered around tables and firesides, some for the first time in years, reunited by the end of a long and difficult war. The ache of loss was still present for many, but there was also a sense of gratitude, relief, and cautious optimism for brighter days ahead.
The Lost & Found poems in this collection, written in that season of homecomings and new beginnings, speak softly to the quiet joys of being together again, the comfort of tradition, the pain of the past and the courage to look forward. May they be a gentle reminder to us all of the healing power of the hope — for families, communities, our nation and the world. ~ Lori
Visit of Old Santa Claus ~ Author Unknown, 1865
“Awake, dear Mamma! And do come and see
What Santa Claus left in my stocking for me!
I’ve a doll, and a sofa, and many fine things!
What beautiful presents old Santa Claus brings!
There’s a whip and a horse for dear Johnny, and more,
It moves like a live one, all over the floor;
The eyes of my dolly, they shut and they open,
Much better you see, than the old one that’s broken.
Do, dearest Mamma! Wake up and see!
How strange that on Christmas you sleepy can be?
And Sissy pulled out from her own little stocking
A tiny bit chair, all cushioned and rocking.
Last night when old Nursey had put us to bed,
And bid us “good night” when our prayers were all said,
I thought I would listen, for I wanted to hear
Old Santa Claus come with his tiny reindeer.
I tried very hard my eyes open to keep,
At the funny old man to steal a sly peep;
So I looked at the chimney as hard as I could –
For Nursey had told us, if we would be good,
He’d come down the chimney, as sure as he came,
And fill up each stocking, for he well knows the name
Of every good child and the house where he lives,
And to all that he loves pretty presents he gives.
So I tried very hard to keep open one eye,
But it kept shutting up as fast as I’d try;
And the first I knew was Johnny’s loud call,
“Merry Christmas! Dear sisters, dear Nursey and all!”
Then I ran to my stocking as fast as could be,
And I found it filled of nice things as you see.
I am very sorry, indeed I am so!
For I wanted to see them all dash through the snow;
Little Dasher and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixen,
Little Comet and Cupid, and Donder and Blixen.
Oh! Nursey has told me such wonderful things
Of the sleigh and the deer, and the presents he brings.
Of old Santa Claus, too, and his funny fur clothes –
His cherry red cheeks, and his pipe and red nose –
Where he places his finger, with a blink of his eyes,
Away up the chimney in a moment he flies.
Oh! Dear, don’t you think when I’m older, next year,
I can keep wide awake to see the reindeer? 1
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At Christmas Time ~ Harper’s Weekly, 1865
To-night we gather round the hearth
While now the Christmas time is near,
The time we keep with song and month,
With noisy games and festal cheer.
Not quite twelve fleeting months have passed,
With rapid changes, through a year
Of shifting light and shade since last
We kept our merry Christmas here.
The War’s fierce clarion sounded loud,
And faces that we see tonight,
Once veiled within the battle’s cloud,
Shone in the campfire’s lurid light.
And others, whom, no more we see,
Lie silent in Death’s dreamless sleep,
Nor shocks of ages yet to be
Shall vex their slumbers long and deep.
To them we fill our glasses high,
We pledge them through all future years,
To them we drain the goblet dry
In spite of rising wells of tears.
What tears for them? Let sorry cease
For those who know not grief or care;
Theirs is a deeper, holier peace –
They breathe a calmer, purer air!
Long ages since the dawn of day,
Gilding the edges of the morn.
Looked in athwart the gloom where lay
The Christ-child of the Virgin born.
And high o’er Bethlehem’s halls and towers,
Through the long watches of the night,
Crowning the dark and silent hours,
One pale star shown with mystic light.
Oh happy morn, whose dawning gave
Hope to a lost and sinful race,
They influence reaches past the rave,
On through remotest time and space!
Ring bells of cheer, ring the day
When cruel wrong at last shall cease;
When feud and hate shall pass away,
And bring the reign of Love and Peace! 3
The Nashville Christmas Stories
Six decades after Clement Moore published his epic Christmas poem, A Visit from St. Nicholas, another story found its way to Nashville, TN, and the result was nothing short of magical.
It all began on December 8, 1883, and during December 2024, I shared this wonderful lost & found story with readers. May it bring joy to you again this holiday season, and many more to come!
A Christmas Carol ~ Author Unknown, 1865
Ring out, glad bells, this happy morn,
Send forth a merry peal,
Say to the world a Christ is born,
Earth’s woes and wounds will heal.
Let youth and beauty, grave and gay,
This blessed morn unite,
To brush the fleeting hours away,
With pleasures sparkling bright.
The children bless the reindeer team,
Which prances o’er the roof.
And, startling in a fitful dream,
Hear every tiny hoof.
Which strikes against the chimney jam
Or stamps a “How d’ye do?”
As Santa Claus, the Present man,
Comes bustling down the flue.
So jolly Nick, the patron Saint,
Has left in every house,
A range of presents, queer and quaint,
From Elephant to Mouse.
But older heads this day will turn
To blessings kindly given,
And hearts long cold will brightly burn
With joy as pure as Heaven.
Then let this Merry Christmas morn
Be filled with happy hours;
This day each rose shall hide its thorn
And joy and peace be ours.
Ring out glad bells, this happy morn,
Send forth a merry peal.
Say to the world a Christ is born. 2
The Story Catalog is not an archive in the usual sense. What you’ll find here is a living catalog of Lost & Found Stories – deeply researched historical narratives told in parts, discovered through newspapers, letters, court records, logs, and the stubborn human habit of leaving traces behind.
Have you read the incredible true story of Aimee Henry and Mary Martha Parker? Call Me a Bastard is my longest serialized story to-date, and the one that started it all here on the Lost & Found Story Box. Check out the story from the beginning.
The Lost & Found Story Box is reader-supported. When you buy through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission.
End Notes
1 “Visit of Old Santa Claus,” The Aegis, Bel Air, MD, December 22, 1865, P. 1.
2 “Christmas Carol,” Santa Claus, Leavenworth, KS, December 1, 1865, P. 1.
3 “At Christmas Time,” Trinity Journal, Weaverville, CA, December 23, 1865, P. 1.
Enjoyed reading through these poems, Lori. Thanks for sharing.
I hope you and your family are having a wonderful Christmas, Lori 🎄🎁