‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Holiday house
Not a creature was stirring, not even Mr. Perez the mouse;
The Alpine Stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled in a Herringbone Throw in their beds;
While visions of Jolly Jellyfish danced in their heads;
And mamma with her Wisteria Catalog, and I in my cap,
Had just folded our Gaucho Throw for a long winter’s nap,
When the Seashell Garland shook with a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Ran past the Pueblo Village and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to the Three Wise Men below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight Regal White Reindeer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
So up to the housetop the White Stags they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and Seaside Santa too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my Notepad, and was turning around,
Down the chimney a more Nordic Santa 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;
And Peace on Earth Doves flew out of his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like Rosemaling Candles, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like Mistletoe,
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 Cherub face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a Serving Bowl full of jelly.
He was plump like a Kash Birds Pillow, 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 placed the Nativity, and went straight to his work,
And filled new Seaside Stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Atop the Mali Rug, 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!”
This poem is inspired by Clement Clarke Moore’s classic A Visit from St. Nicholas.