One of the oldest and most popular Christmas poems ever, commonly referred to as Twas The Night Before Christmas, was written in the early 19th century. Though its author is disputed, with the poem being attributed to both Clement Clarke Moore and Henry Livingston Jr. over the years, it was definitely first published on Dec. 23, 1823: It is also referred to as A Visit From St. Nicholas or The Night Before Christmas. Below are the original lyrics to the poem: Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro 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 dancd in their heads, And Mama in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winters 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 minature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer, 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 calld them by name: Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer, and Vixen, On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixem; 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 little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound: He was dressd all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnishd with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys was flung on his back, And he lookd 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 laughd, like a bowl full of jelly: He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughd 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 filld all the stockings; then turnd with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprung 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.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 08:42:13 +0000
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