A Visit from St. Nicholas
by Clement Clarke Moore
‘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 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 luster 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 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 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.”
