Twas the night before Christmas...

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Denubian mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The insiders were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of corrections danc'd in their heads,
And Dad in his boxers, 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 my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and knocking something over with a crash,
The lights from the streetlights on the breast of the frost below,
Gave the luster of mid-day setting objects aglow;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and nine robotic reindeer,
With a little ole driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than missiles, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted and call'd them by name;
"Now Jory, now Jacob, now Gord and Darion;
On Poon, on Thomas, on Chris, on Robert and Brandon;
"To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As as a toy helicopter they did 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 books, 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 dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot;
A bundle of books was flung on his back,
And he look'd like a Tauren 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 in a smile,
and the beard of his chin was as white as the tile;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encicled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laugh'd, like a bowl full of T'clock 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 nod 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 fill'd all the stockings; then turn'd 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 on a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight -
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"