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 little 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 hearth 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 mounts 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 noiselessly 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 good to the little old man, When you find who the little man is. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE COMING OF SNOW by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN THE LIFE SO SHORT by EAMON GRENNAN PRAYER AT SUNRISE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 4. NEW JERSEY by CLARENCE MAJOR BOYHOOD FRIENDS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN WASSON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |