The Night Before Christmas.

'Twas the night before Christmas,

And 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 sugarplums

Danced in their heads.

And mamma in her 'kerchief,

And I in my cap,

Had just settled down

For a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn

There arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed

To see what was the matter.

Away to the window

I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters

And threw up the sash.

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 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!

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 dry leaves that before

The wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle,

Mount to the sky.

So up to the house-top

The coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys,

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 hand,

And was turning around,

Down the chimney 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 ashes and soot.

A bundle of toys

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,

His nose like a cherry!

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 the stockings,

Then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger

Aside of his nose