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Twas The Night Before Christmas

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'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 wee, little beds, While visions of sugar plums danced in their wee, little heads. 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 my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters, threw open the sash. Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. With a little old driver, so lively and quick, That I knew right away, that 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, now Vixen, On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen". To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall, Dash away, dash away, dash away, dash away all. 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, All the clattering noise of these galloping hoofs. All bundled in fur from his head to his foot, His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. I drew in my head and was turning around, When down the chimney he came with a bound. A bag full of toys he had slung on his back, And he looked like a little, old peddler just opening his pack. His eyes, how they twinkled so gay, His dimples, how merry were they. His cheeks were like roses when kissed by the sun, His nose like a cherry, all wrinkled with fun. And his droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, The beard on his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a little, old pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke went around, and around, and around his head like a wreath. Oh, he was so jolly and plump, a right jolly old, jolly old elf, And I laughed, and I laughed, and I laughed when I saw him, In spite of myself. He had a round face, and a little round belly, That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He gave me a wink of his eye and a twist of his head, A chuckle and a smile, I knew all the while I had nothing to dread. He spoke no word, but went straight to his work, He filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk. And laying a 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 as he drove out of sight, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all good night." 'Tis the night after Christmas, and all through the house, Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. The presents are scattered and broken like tears, And St. Nicholas won't come again for a year. The children are nestled all snug in their wee, little beds, While memories of sugar plums dance in their wee, little heads. Mamma in her kerchief, pappa in his cap, Are settled at last for a long winter's nap.

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