twas the night before christmas

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 mama in her 'kerchief

and i in my cap

had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. when out on the roof 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 the new-fallen snow

gave the 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!