A Solstice Dragon World Version
Rasmuth’s Night Before Christmas
A Solstice Dragon World version
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land
Not a creature was stirring, and not one demand;
The rucksacks were hung by the cavern with flare,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The fledglings were nestled all snug in their caves;
While visions of deer and elk danced in their brains;
And Kasska in her warm niche, and I nestled in sand,
Had just settled our minds for a winter snowland,
When out on the cliff there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my ledge to see what was the matter.
Away to the entrance I flew like a flash,
Tore out through the opening and into the pass.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a luster of midday to boulders below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a gargantuan sleigh and eight dragon 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, Mogan! now, Varvi! now Kimble and Shazure!
On, Karlyle! on, Clave! on, Shrhak and Brundar!
To the top of the cliff! to the top of the peak!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away, streak!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the butte top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard overhead
The prancing and pawing of each giant tread.
As I drew in my snout, and was turning around,
Down the crevasse 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 brambles and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler 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 rucksacks; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the crevasse 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!”
