'Twas The Night Before Christmas: The story of a classic

'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;

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, I sprang from my 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 a lustre of midday to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer, With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he 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 top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As 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 little 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 pedler 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 round 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; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to 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 good night!”

The Story Behind The Poem

The famous Christmas poem above — nearly everybody calls it “’Twas the Night Before Christmas,” but the actual name is the one shown above — was written on Christmas Eve 1822 by Episcopal minister and college instructor Clement C. Moore.

Moore was inspired by the sights and sounds of a snow-covered New York City, as he traveled home from buying a turkey for Christmas dinner. He wrote the poem to read to his six children and then published it anonymously the next year in the Troy Sentinel newspaper

Clement C. Moore

Moore was a serious scholar who had written several books on various historical topics. He seemed ashamed, somehow, of this poem. He finally owned up to having written it in 1838 and published it in a collection of his poetry in 1844.

Some scholars say there is evidence that suggests the poem had been written by Henry Livingston Jr. as early as 1807.

The English language has changed a bit since 1822. Modern versions of Moore’s poem change “the breast of the new fallen snow” to “the crest of the new fallen snow.” More examples:

■ “Ere he drove out of sight” has been modernized to “As he drove out of sight”

■ “Happy Christmas to all” is usually updated to “Merry Christmas to all.”

■ The final two reindeer are referred to as “Dunder and Blixem” in the original poem — this was fixed above, as well as some minor grammatical tweaks.

The version you see above is in the public domain and was posted by the Poetry Foundation.

In 1860, a friend asked Moore to write a copy of his poem longhand and to sign it. That copy sold at auction in 2006 for $280,000 to a man identified only as a “chief executive of a media company.”