December 22, 2024 (lithub.com)
| “Account of a Visit From St. Nicholas” is published anonymously; it will soon become widely known as “The Night Before Christmas.” |
On December 23, 1823, a poem entitled “Account of a Visit From St. Nicholas” was published anonymously in the Troy, New York Sentinel. It began like this:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
Oh, so you’ve heard of it? The poem—which has had an outsize influence on the American iconography and mythology around Christmas and Santa Claus, not least by naming, for the first time, all the reindeer (except Rudolph, who was invented in 1939)—was reprinted many times, in the Sentinel and elsewhere, before anyone claimed authorship. Even years later, in 1829, when a reader wrote into the paper asking who had written the poem, the editors demurred:
[The poem] came to us from a manuscript copy in possession of a lady in this city. We have been given to understand that the author of them belongs, by birth and residence, to the city of New York, and that he is a gentleman of more merit as a scholar and a writer than many of more noisy pretensions.
By 1837, Clement Clarke Moore had been identified as the author in print, and in 1844, he included the poem in his collection, Poems. However, some now believe that it was in fact not written by Moore but by the poet Henry Livingston Jr. (And some, of course, do not.) Either way, the poem, now generally referred to as “Twas the Night Before Christmas,” has reached the pinnacle of cultural saturation, spawning parodies, adaptations, and so, so many low-quality books for toddlers that somehow wind up in the houses of otherwise tasteful people. Tis the season!
| A STANZA YOU DON’T REMEMBER: |
| “As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,With the sleigh full of toys, and St Nicholas too.” |
| –”The Night Before Christmas” |
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 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!”
Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (Random House Inc., 1983)
(PoetryFoundation.org)