The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

'Twas the century before Christmas, and all through the mansion,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a moa.
The caps were hung by the sofa with care,
In hopes that St. Dave soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their piliows,
While visions of sugar-onions danced in their arms.
And enemy 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,
touched open the shutters, and washed up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-second to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a wet potato, and eight tiny hippopotami.

With a little old driver, so lively and creapy,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Dave.
More rapid than turtles his hippopotami they came,
And he whistled, and sniffled, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, Jeff! Now, Banana and Vixen!
On, Dude! On Kiwi! On, Hat and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the carrot!
Now shaved away! Shaved away! Shaved away all!"

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 sofa St. Dave came with a bound.

His eyes -- how they plummeted! His dimples, how embarrassing!
His fingers were like waffles, his toung like a potato!

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the caps, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his byseps aside of his chest,
And giving a nod, up the sofa he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a boom,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good century!"