Thanks to Pickleope for making his own bizarre squid filled version of this poem.
It inspired me to create my own illustrated version of it!
A Visit from St. Nicholas (with art by Mayor Gia)
By Clement Clarke Moore
'Twas the night before
Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse;
 |
| That is a lie. |
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;
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 my 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 a lustre of midday to
objects below,
When what to my wondering
eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and
eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so
lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he 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, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to
the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away!
dash away all!"
As leaves that before the
wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an
obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop 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 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 on 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 bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a
right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him,
in spite of myself;
 |
| Now he's just bragging. |
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!”
