'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 the hope 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,
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 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! now, Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Dunder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Now, dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves 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 tiny 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 pedler 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 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 his 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,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Clement C. Moore.
Among green, pleasant meadows,
All in a grove so wild,
Was set a marble image
Of the Virgin and the child.
2 Here oft, on summer evenings,
A lovely boy would rove,
To play beside the image
That sanctified the grove.
Oft sat his mother by him,
Among the shadows dim, And told how the Lord Jesus Was once a child like him.
And now from highest heaven He doth look down each day, And sees whate'er thou doest; And hears what thou dost say!"
Thus spoke his tender mother;
And on an evening bright,
When the red, round sun descended
'Mid clouds of crimson light,
Again the boy was playing,
And earnestly said he,
"O beautiful child Jesus,
Come down and play with me!
"I will find thee flowers the fairest
And weave for thee a crown;
I will get thee ripe, red strawberries,
If thou wilt but come down!
O holy, holy Mother,
Put him down from off thy knee
For in these silent meadows
There are none to play with me!"
Thus spoke the boy so lovely,
The while his mother heard,
And on his prayer she pondered,
But spoke to him no word.
That self-same night she dreamed
A lovely dream of joy;
She thought she saw young Jesus
There playing with her boy.
And for the fruits and flowers
Which thou hast brought to me,
Rich blessing shall be given
A thousand-fold to thee!
"For in the fields of heaven
Thou shalt roam with me at will,
And of bright fruits celestial
Thou shalt have, dear child, thy fill!"
Thus tenderly and kindly
The fair child Jesus spoke;
And full of careful musings,
The anxious mother woke.
And thus it was accomplished :—
In a short month and a day,
That lovely boy, so gentle,
Upon his deathbed lay.
And thus he spoke in dying:
"O mother dear, I see
The beautiful child Jesus
A coming down to me!
"And in his hand he beareth
Bright flowers as white as snow,
And red and juicy strawberries,
Dear mother, let me go!"
He died-but that fond mother
Her sorrow did restrain,
For she knew he was with Jesus,
And she asked him not again.
"Arise, my maiden, Mabel,"
The mother said; 66 Arise,
For the golden sun of midsummer
Is shining in the skies.
"Arise, my little maiden,
For thou must speed away, To wait upon thy grandmother This livelong summer day.
"And thou must carry with thee
This wheaten cake so fine,
This new-made pat of butter,
This little flask of wine.
"And tell the dear old body, This day I cannot come,
For the good man went out yester-morn, And he is not come home.
"And more than this, poor Amy
Upon my knee doth lie;
I fear me with this fever-pain
The little child will die!
"And thou canst help thy grandmother; The table thou canst spread
Canst feed the little dog and bird;
And thou canst make her bed.
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