When out on the lawn
there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the 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 the lustre of mid-day
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.

CONTINUE