The Mouse before Christmas
The Mouse before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a person was sleeping, all because of one mouse;
The glue traps were placed by the kitchen and stair
In hopes that St. Mickey soon would be there;
The children were hiding, afraid in their beds,
While nightmares of furry pests danced in their heads;
And mamma in her one piece and I in my wrap,
Had just finished baiting the last of the traps,
When down on my 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,
bumped into the bedpost and incurred quite a gash.
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 mouseketeers,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Mick.
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! '
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poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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