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THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by Clement Clarke 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 down 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 tiny
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, 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 hand, 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." |