'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 down 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 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 hand, 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 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 laughed like a bowlful 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,
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, as he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."
"Twas the night before Christmas in the cold wintry fog. Nary a critter was movin', nor a longe prairie dog. Then from out of the north the breeze gave a stir; An icy cold blast swirled the fog in a blur. A blue Texas norther roared over the plains. The cold fairly whistled through the loose winderpanes. I poked at the farplace to stir up a flame- The embers glowed redeer, but the cold stayed the same. Ma fixed up our dinner to be ready next day And thought about Christmas a few hours away. Our scuffed boots were assembled on the floor pair by pair Where Santy would find 'em for he soon would be there. The younguns were bundled down snug in their covers, A sprout of a girl and her two older brothers. So me in my long johns and Ma in her gown Warmed up by the far 'fore we laid ourselves down. Then from out on the range there came such a ruckus, I ran to the winder to see what the fuss was. Through the blue winter blizzard a scene came to sight; I squinted t see, for there waren't much light. There stompin' and snortin' and pawin' the ground Were eight scrounge longhorns stampedin' around. In front of a wagon piled full as could be With boxes and bundles as high as a tree. Then a bellerin' yell soon set them all straight From a fat li'l ole ramrod who put fear int he eight. Well, they waren't really scairt- no harm would he cause- For their longhorn head honcho was old Santy Claus! He got their attention and called them by name, "Hey, Leadfoot and Waleye- git up there, Culhane! "Come on Gimp and Flopear and Scarface-start draggin', Git on, Sam and High-Hips, let's move this here wagon!" Old Leadfoot, he bellered and lifted his head, Then straight on they trampled through Ma's flower bed. They laid the gate flat, and the clothesline went, too. Nothin' stood in their way as they flat-footed through. Santy pulled them up short on top of the roof After wrecking the porch with them clodhopper hoofs. They rocked our sod shanty, the dirt sifted down, And then through the chimney Santy came with a bound! He was dressed all in rawhide with a Stetson on top. His big Texas boots hit the floor with a clop. He shook hi great belly and stomped with each foot, Which knocked off a shower of mud, ash, and soot. His eyes were both squinty and his skin was like leather From too much exposure to the raw Texas weather. He looked tough as a horseshoe, but I felt no alarm, 'Cause a wink of his eye showed he'd do u no harm. A feed bag of toys he flung from his back, And with nary a word he opened the sack. He filled all the boots and piled them up high, Then looked out the winder and up at the sky. The cold Texas norther still whistled and blew, But more younuns was waitin'- his work wasn't through. It was hard to just leave and walk through the door To face all them longhorns and the cold as before. He drank some hot mud and hunched close to the heat To soak up the warmth and thaw his cold feet. He could no longer dally or put of the chore, So he gave us a wink and pushed through the door. He prodded the longhorns to get on the go, And the wagon took off, thorough the fog and the snow. He called over the norther 'fore he went out of sight, "Merry Christmas, y'heah? And y'all have a good night!"
'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck How to live in a world that's politically correct? His workers no longer would answer to Elves, Vertically challenged they were calling themselves. And labor conditions at the North Pole Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul. Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety, Released to the wilds by the Humane Society. And Equal Employment had made it quite clear That Santa had better not use just reindeer. So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid Were replaced with four pigs, and you know that looked stupid! The runners had been removed from his sleigh, The ruts were termed dangerous by the EPA. And people had started to call for the cops When they heard sled noises on their rooftops. Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. His fur-trimmed red suit was called Unenlightened.
'Twas the night before Chanukah, boichiks and maidels
Not a sound could be heard, not even the dreidels
The menorah was set by the chimney alight
In the kitchen, the Bubbie was hopping a bite
Salami, Pastrami, a glaisele tay
And zoyere pickles mit bagels-- Oy vay!
Gezint and geschmock the kinderlach felt
While dreaming of taiglach and Chanukah gelt
The alarm clock was sitting, a kloppin' and tickin'
And Bubbie was carving a shtickele chicken
A tummel arose, like the wildest k'duchas
Santa had fallen right on his tuchas!
I put on my slippers, ains, tzvay, drei
While Bubbie was eating herring on rye
I grabbed for my bathrobe and buttoned my gottkes
And Bubbie was just devouring the latkes
To the window I ran, and to my surprise
A little red yarmulka greeted my eyes.
When he got to the door and saw the menorah
"Yiddishe kinder," he cried, "Kenahorah!"
I thought I was in a Goyishe hoise!
As long as I'm here, I'll leave a few toys."
"Come into the kitchen, I'll get you a dish
Mit a gupel, a leffel, and a shtickele fish."
With smacks of delight he started his fressen
Chopped liver, knaidlach, and kreplach gegessen
Along with his meal he had a few schnapps
When it came to eating, this boy sure was tops
He asked for some knishes with pepper and salt
But they were so hot he yelled out "Gevalt!"
He loosened his hoysen and ran from the tish
"Your koshereh meals are simply delish!"
As he went through the door he said "See y'all later
I'll be back next Pesach in time for the seder!"
So, hutzmir and zeitzmir and "Bleibtz mir gezint"
he called out cheerily into the wind.
More rapid than eagles, his prancers they came
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name
"Come, Izzie, now Moishe, now Yossel and Sammy!
On Oyving, and Maxie, and Hymie and Manny!"
He gave a geshrai, as he drove out of sight
"A gut yontiff to all, and to all a good night!"
Prairie Night Before Christmas
James Rice
"Twas a cold Christmas eve
on the Southwestern plain
And the North wind was blowin'
through a broke winderpane.
In that sod shanty shack
far from home, warmth and care
Shivered two lonely cowboys,
such a scraggly pair.
They crowded the farplace
where the flames flickered low
From smoldering embers
that heated too slow,
Then a knock at the dorr and a bang on the wall-
Over the sound of the storm
they heard a voice call,
"Please open the dorr
and let me come in;
I'm near froze to death
and chilled to the skin."
The door was unbolted
and then opened wide
And a fat li'l ole man
jumped quickly inside.
There was frost on this whiskers
and ice hung from his nose;
He shivered and shook
from his head to his toes.
In spite of discomfort
He didn't complain.
His expression was jolly
as he paused to explain,
"I was movin' this cargo
and making good time:
I'd covered the country
from desert to pine,"Till I crossed the border
to this panhandle land
And a Southwestern norther
commenced stirring the sand,
"The temperature dropped
more'n a hunnert degrees;
My team soon fled North
where they'd less likely freeze."
The old cowman had doubts
'bout the strange little man
But in southwest tradition
he put out his hand.
"you can shake off your boots;
you're welcome to stay
Or we can help ya
to be on your way."
Athe answer came quickly
with a twinkle of eye,
"I got many a mile yet
"fore the sun hits the sky.
"Could you find me a team
(I gladly will pay)
Then point my nose South
and I'll be on my way."
"The only critters we have
that could pull a full load
Are the ornery longhorns
and they'd have to be showed.
"they ain't ever been hitched
to a wagon with reins;
They'd be too much trouble-
they're a mite short on brains."
They made an odd threesome
as they wetn out on the range-
The old cowhand and the youngster
and the old man so strange.
They saddled three broncs
in the dark freezing night;
With cold-stiffened fingers
they made the cinch tight.
While roping the longhorns
they bumped and they stumbled
And numerous times
from their hosses they tumbled.
It took all three working
an hour or more
To hitch up the wagon
in two rows of four.
The longhorns at first
refused to obey,
When the strange little man
tried to get under way.
Then one lifted hid head
and gave out a bellow
And the rest one by one
they started to follow.
The longhorns were straining
and pulling together;
they built up their speed
then just like a feather-
On a strong gust of wind
their feet gave a bound
Then man, wagon and longhorns
all at once left the ground!
The old cowboy and youngster
stared up in surprise,
A trick of the storm,
too much wind in the eyes---
Those were their thoughts
as they looked at the sky;
Any fool knew darn well
that such things cannot fly.
The young cowboy grumbled
as they moved toward the shack,
But the old one stayed quiet
pert' near all the way back.
They reached the sod shanty
and opened the door
And they couldn't believe
what they saw on the floor.
Two pairs of new boots
with spurs made of silver,
With a note but no clue
as to who was the giver.
They made out the words
in the dim farplace light:
"Merry Christmas to All
and to All a Good Night!"
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the nets
Not a mousie was stirring, not even the pets.
The floppies were stacked by the modem with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The files were nestled all snug in a folder
The screen saver turned on, the weather was colder.
And leaving the keyboard along with my mouse
I turned from the screen to the rest of the house.
When up from the drive there arose such a clatter
I turned to the screen to see what was the matter.
Away to the mouse I flew like a flash,
Zoomed open a window in fear of a crash...
The glow from the screen on the keyboard below
Gave an electronic luster to all my macros.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a little sleigh icon with eight tiny reindeer
And a tiny disk driver so SCSI and quick
I knew in a nano it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than trackballs his cursors they came,
He whistled and shouted and faxed them by name.
"Now Flasher! Now Dasher! Now Raster and Bixel!
On Phosphor! On Photon! On Baudrate and Pixel!
To the top of the stack. To the top of the heap."
Then each little reindeer made a soft beep.
As data that before the wild electrons fly,
When they meet with a node, mount to the drive,
So up to the screentop the cursors they flew
With a sleigh full of disks and databits, too.
And then in a twinkling I heard the high whine
Of a modem connecting at a baud rate so fine.
As I gazed at the screen with a puzzling frown
St. Nicholas logged on though I thought I was down.
He was dressed all in bytes from header to footer
And the words on the screen said "Don't you reboot 'er."
A bundle of bits he had flung on his back
And he looked like a programmer starting his hack.
His eyes how they glazed, his hair was so scary,
His cola was jolt, not flavored with cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a GIF
And the pixels of his beard sure gave me a lift.
The stump of a routine he held tight in his code
And I knew he had made it past the last node.
He spoke not a word but looked right at me
And I saw in a flash his file was .SEA.
He self-decompressed and I watched him unfold,
Into a jolly old elf, a sight to behold.
And the whispering sound of my hard drive's head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He went straight to his work without saying a word
And filled all the folders of this happy nerd.
And 'tis the whole truth, as the story is told,
That giving a nod up the window he scrolled,
He sprang to the serial port as if truly on fire
And away they all flew down the thin copper wire.
But I heard him exclaim as he scrolled out of sight
"Happy Christmas to All, and to all a good night."
Twas the night before Christmas,
When me and my horse
Were starting our gift-givin' journey.
Of course;
With me dressed as Saint Nick,
And a pack full of toys
For all of them little ol'
Cowgirls and boys;
I soon realized-
Oh yes, it was clear-
Being Santa was harder
Than ropin' a steer.
It's Christmas Day all is secure
ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
HE LIVED ALL ALONE
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE
AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE
NO TINSEL NO PRESENTS NOT EVEN A TREE
NO STOCKING BY THE MANTLE JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES AWARDS OF ALL KINDS
A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT IT WAS DARK AND DREARY
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING SILENT ALONE
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER
NOT HOW I PICTURED A LONE BRITISH SOLDIER
WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO THE FLOOR FOR A BED
I REALISED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT
SOON ROUND THE WORLD THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY
THEY ALL ENJOY FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY ALONE
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME
THE VERY THOUGH BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE
'SANTA DON'T CRY THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM I DON'T ASK FOR MORE
MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY. MY CORPS'
THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT I CONTINUED TO WEEP
I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SAT AND SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHTS CHILL
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD DARK NIGHT
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOUR SO WILLING TO FIGHT
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE
WHISPERED 'CARRY ON SANTA ITS CHRISTMAS DAY ALL IS SECURE'
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT
'MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT'
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