by 

Clement Moore

When what to my wondering eyes should appear

But a miniature sleigh and eight 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 courses 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, Donner and Blitzen

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 house top the courses they flew,

With a 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 allin fur from his head to his foot,

 And his clothes were all tamished with ashes and soot;

 A boundle 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 on his chin was as white as the snow.

 The stump of his pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke , it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face an 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 spit of myself.

A wink of his eye, and a twist on 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 hi sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

 But I heard him exclaim, where he drove out of sight:

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

‘Twas the night before Christmas when although the house

 Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugarplums danced through their heads;

And Mamma in her kerchief, and in my cap

 Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap –

 When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter;

I sprang out of my bed to see what was the matter.

 Away to the window I flew like a flash.

 Tore up the shutter and threw up the sash.

 The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,

Gave a luster of mid - day to objects below,

 Tillbaka