Friday 22 December 2023

A Visit from Saint Nicholas by C C Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas
And 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 sugarplums
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 shutter
And threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast
Of a new-fallen snow
Gave a lustre of midday
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 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 housetop
His 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 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 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 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
Ere he rode out of sight 
"Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a goodnight!"

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