‘Twas the Night Before Christmas at Fairmont Farm

Edited from Clement Clarke Moore’s Original

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the barns
It’s business as usual, on a dairy farm;

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The stockings were hung by the parlor with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

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The cows were nestled all snug in their sand beds,

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While visions of summer-sun danced in their heads;

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The milkers are bundled up for the storm,
They are settling into their shift and will be milking ’til Christmas ‘morn,

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When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the parlor to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

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The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

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With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
They 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;

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“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN!

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To the top of the field! to the top of the hill!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

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As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the barn-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of corn, and St. Nicholas too.

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And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As they drew in their hands, and turned around,
Down the cupola St. Nicholas came with a bound.

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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 corn he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

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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;

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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.

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He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And they laughed when they saw him, in spite of themselves;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread;

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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 cupola he rose;

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He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!

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