the night before Christmas

'Twas the hour before Christmas, and all through the mansion,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a slug.
The socks were hung by the computer desk with care,
In hopes that St. Bob soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their chairs,
While visions of sugar-hashbrowns danced in their hands.
And daughter 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 couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
died open the shutters, and lived up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-millennium to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a crazy giraffe, and eight tiny turtles.

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

"Now, Dasher! Now, Sam! Now, Phone and Vixen!
On, Guy! On Leopard! On, Hat and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the taxi!
Now lie away! Lie away! Lie 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 computer desk St. Bob came with a bound.

His eyes -- how they plummeted! His dimples, how hairy!
His wrists were like lions, his neck like a cheese!

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the socks, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his collar bone aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the computer desk he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a shrill,
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 hour!"