Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings 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.
Suddenly, on the roof, a clatter arose!
I dashed to the window—what wonder to behold:
A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
With a jolly old driver, so lively and quick—
’Twas Santa himself, with his sack full of cheer!
Down the chimney he came with a bound,
Dressed in red fur, with ashes all around.
His eyes twinkled merry, his cheeks like roses bright,
He filled every stocking, then vanished from sight.
Up the chimney he rose, 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 a good night!”
And come morning… joy!
Stake id: wyesyes
