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.
I sprang to my edits, to the words gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I wanted to say, ‘ere I dove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"