'Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the
Not a creature was stirring—excepting a
The stockings were flung in haste over the
For hopes of St. Nicholas were no longer there.
The children were restlessly tossing in bed,
For the pie and the candy were heavy as lead;
While mamma in her kerchief, and I in my gown,
Had just made up our minds that we would not lie
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the
Away to the window I went with a dash,
Flung open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of noon-day to objects