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. Nicholas soon would be there

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads
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 tinny reindeer

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a instant 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, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch to the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash 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 head, 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

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,
And giving a nod, 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!"

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Clement Clark Moore