Twas the Night Before Christmas

By Clement Cluck 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 chickens were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of succulent earthworms danced in their heads;

And my dog in her collar, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's hibernation,

When out in the barn 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, which fell of and went smash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to frozen objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-ducks,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than bantams his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, George! now, Sullivan! now, Jim and Paul!

On, Sally! on Emily! on, Della and Molly!

To the top of the Coop! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

So up to the barn-top the duckies, they flew,

With the sleigh full of corn, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a ker-plunkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little waddling foot.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

In the Barn St. Nicholas went with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with shavings and poop;

A bundle of corn 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;
(awkward pause)

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 feeders; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney that wasn't even there he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his ducks gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, E-R-E. Hhhm. Wonder what that means? He drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."