Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the Night Before Christmas
AKA: A Visit from St. Nicholas
by: Clement Clarke 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 sugarplums danced in their heads;
and mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter 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 luster 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 Donner 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 housetop 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 rose, 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 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 jer,
and 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, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken
by Rober Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Sojmewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.