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He comes in the night! He comes in the night! He softly silently comes: While the little brown heads on the pillows so white are dreaming of bugles and drums. He cuts through the snow like a ship through the foam, while the white flakes around him whirl; Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home of each good boy and girl.

His sleigh it is long , and deep , and wide; It will carry a host of things, While dozens of drums hang over the side, with the sticks sticking under the strings.
And yet not the sound of a drum is heard, Not a bugle blast is blown, As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird, and drops to the earth like a stone.

The little red stockings he silently fills, till the stockings will hold no more; The bright little sleds for the great snow hills Are quickly set down on the floor. Then Santa Claus mont to the roof like a bird, and glides to his seat in the sleigh;

Not a sound of a bugle or drum is heard as he noiselessy gallops away.

He rides to the East , and he rides to the West, of his goodies he touches not one; He eateth the crumbs of the Christmas feast When the dear little folks are done.

Old Santa Claus doeth all that he can; This beautiful mission is his; Then , children be ge good to the little old man, when you find who the little man is.

--Author unknown