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 on 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 bowl full of jelly.
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. As I drew in my head and was turning around, Down the chimney, St. Nicholas too- And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. 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, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!” As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky So up to the housetop the coursers they flew With the sleigh full of toys, and St. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a luster of midday to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he must be St. Away to the window, I flew like a flash, Tore opened the shutters and threw up the sash. 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 my bed to see what was the matter. Twas the night before Christmas poem Image Source ‘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.
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