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- THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
- (A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS)
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- by Clement Clarke Moore
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- THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION (C)1988
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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 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, 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 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."
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