tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15584488.post-41414542224908905242007-12-24T18:32:00.000-06:002008-07-10T17:05:13.831-05:00Merry Christmas!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">A Visit from St. Nicholas</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">By Clement Clarke Moore</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">’T WAS the night before Christmas, when all through the house</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS soon would be there;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The children were nestled all snug in their beds,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Away to the window I flew like a flash, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">With a little old driver, so lively and quick,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“Now, <em>Dasher!</em> now, <em>Dancer!</em> now, <em>Prancer</em> and <em>Vixen!</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">On, <em>Comet!</em> on, <em>Cupid!</em> on, <em>Donder</em> and <em>Blitzen!</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> As I drew in my head, and was turning around,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He had a broad face and a little round belly,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> And laying his finger aside of his nose,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”</em></span>Roxann Delaneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10793875617929387443noreply@blogger.com