'Twas the Night Before Christmas

The classic story of Santa's visit

by Clement Clarke Moore
['Twas the Night Before Christmas]

'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 Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums 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 luster of midday 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 an instant it must be Saint 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, Donder 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 housetop the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and Saint 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 Saint 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 sack.

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 a little round belly, that shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed, when I saw him, in spite of myself.

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 on a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim 'er he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night."

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