'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 my 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 a lustre of midday to objects
below,
When what to my wondering eyes did
appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight
tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively
and quick,
I knew in a moment he 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 Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top
of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away
all!"
As 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
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 pedler 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 on 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
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;
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!”
~Clement Clarke Moore
who wrote it for his children