Be inspired by these Christmas poems twas the night before. . . The original poem written by Clement C. Moore is a classic poem known by children worldwide. Also, find other poems about the night before.
'Twas The Night Before Christmas
Poet: Clement C. Moore
'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;
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 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 and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
As dry leaves that 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 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 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.
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 in 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! "
The Night Before Christmas, Don't Go To Bed
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
'Twas the night before Christmas and the children were fed.
But excited children did not want to go to bed!
They envisioned the gifts under the tree
They hoped there would be more than three.
But Mom and Dad insisted, off to bed they go
They didn't move quickly, they moved rather slow.
But like good little children, off to bed, they did go.
Their plan was to stay awake until Santa did show.
Try as they might, their eyes they did close
Before they awoke Santa arrived and up the chimney, he rose
But the children did not hear Santa go down the hall
And as Santa left he said, Merry Christmas to all!