Last year before Christmas, I posted one of my favorite Christmas stories, The Gift of the Magi. This year I would like post another favorite that is more well known.
'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.
