Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The red buckets were hung in the whole barn with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The horses were nestled all snug in their shavings,
And visions of carrots and cookies danced in their heads.
While I in my ugg boots, and warm flannel jammies,
Had decided to settle on a nice winter’s nap with a glass of Merlot before.
When out in the pasture there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the barn I flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors and ran through the breeze way.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight horses so dear.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his horses they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Shadow! now, Sass! now, Poet and Minnie!
On, Bailey! On, Cotton! on Dubya and Misty!
To the top of the barn! 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 barn-top his horses they flew,
With a sleigh full of Tack, 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 hay chute 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 shavings and soot.
A big brand new hay bag 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, Hey! He reminds me of Harry.
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 their buckets, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the hay chute 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!”
HoHoHo ~ Shawn
