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
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