Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the public house, 

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The barrels were full in the cellar with care, 

In the hope that St Nicholas soon would be there.

When out on the terrace there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

With a little old driver,so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 

And he whistled and shouted, the children of the butchers hook by name. 

Now Marco! now Lou,now Cinza and Fabien, 

Oh Gabriel, Francesco, oh Anthony and Fidel!

I will be with you soon on the 25th of December

At the butchers hook to see you, so all please remember. 

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 regular so we cut him some slack. 

His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! 

His cheeks were likes Gus's after too much sweet sherry !

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow

And he shouted in the air this is a great gastro

But I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight, 

Happy Christmas to you all and to all a good night . 

 

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