Volume 17 , Issue 46

"A Visit From St. Nicholas" by Clement Clarke Moore

Have you ever heard this famous poem, "A Visit From St. Nicholas," written many years ago, but popularity never waned? This poem appeared again in The Farmer and Mechanic of Raleigh, North Carolina, 24 December 1907, Tuesday, page 6.

Found on Newspapers.com

Clement Clarke Moore composed the jingle for the pleasure of his own household, but it had gained wide circulation in the past 84 years (since 1823).

When Clement Clarke Moore wrote "A Visit From St. Nicholas," he had no thought that it would ever see the light of publicity.

Professor Moore was a learned teacher of Biblical love in a theological seminary in 1882. He wrote "A Visit From St. Nicholas" for the family circle. As a specimen of perfected versification it was exceedingly crude, violating some of the best known rules for the guidance of verse-makers.

The poem was printed without the consent of the author in the Troy (NY) Sentinel, December 23, 1823. Prof. Moore was so distressed by its publication that he came very near resigning his place as teacher. But the exquisite sentiment of the poem rose above any crudities of construction, and won tremendous favor at once.

"A Visit From St. Nicholas" had survived through the years, and was still popular everywhere. it was given here as Professor Moore penned it 85 years ago (1822).

1823 Poem, A Visit From St. Nicholas

• '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 hope 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's nap -
• When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
• 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 a 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, Donder and Blitzen!
• To the top of the porch, to the tope 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 tiny 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 roses, 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 young belly
• That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full 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; and then turned with a jerk,
• And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
• And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose
• He sprang to his sleigh 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 goodnight!"

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