‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Swiss Cheese mouse;
The red apple stocking was hung without notice or care. (The mouse had not seen that it had way too much worn.)
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children have 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 that was really a flake made of sugar cookie dough.
He was glad mom hadn’t tried to feed him a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he finished his last bite,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”