By
Clement Moore
Twas the
night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a
creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The
stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes
that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The
children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While
visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And
mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just
settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out
on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang
from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to
the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open
the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon
on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the
lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When,
what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a
miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a
little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew
in a moment it must be St Nick.
More
rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he
whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now
Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On,
Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the
top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash
away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry
leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When
they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to
the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the
sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And
then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The
prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I
drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the
chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was
dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his
clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle
of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he
looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His
eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His
cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His
droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the
beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The
stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the
smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a
broad face and a little round belly,
That
shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was
chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I
laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink
of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon
gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke
not a word, but went straight to his work,
And
filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And
laying his finger aside of his nose,
And
giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He
sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away
they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I
heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy
Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
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