The Nightmare

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the halls,
not a ghost was stirring, not even in the walls.1

The doors were shut and locked with care, with hopes that St. Nicholas would not bother there.2

The children were huddled, cowered in their beds, with visions and nightmares all in their heads;3

And mama in her nightgown, and I with my gun, prayed that the nightmare had not yet begun.4

When out on the porch there arose such a sound, 5

I sprang from my bed to look around.6

Away to the kitchen I quietly walked, peeked through the peephole, and checked the lock.7

The moon on the furniture put me in shadows, 8

it gave me a fright and I suddenly froze;9

when, what to my scared eyes should appear,10

but a thing that instills so much fear,11

a little old man, giving me a feeling so sick,12

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.13

More rapid than ravens his followers they came,14

and he cackled, and screamed and called them by name:15

"Now, Nightmare! Now, Anguish! Now, Selfishness and Depression!16

On, Rage! On, Despair! On, Jealousy and Agression!17

To the top of the stairs, to the kitchen chairs,18

Now,run upstairs, run upstairs, run upstairs all!"19

As hopes and dreams that before the nightmare fly,20

when they meet with trouble, run for the sky,21

so, up to the house the animals they flew,22

with heads full of wreckage--and destruction, too.23

And then, with a shout, I heard through the wall24

the screeching and scratching of each little claw.25

As I cried in my head, and was turning around,26

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound;27

He was dressed all in fear from his head to his foot,28

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.29

A bundle of devastation he had flung on my life,30

And he looked like a beast just discovering a knife.31

His red eyes, how they glinted! His curled lip, how scary!32

His cheeks were gaunt, his face was hairy.33

His gaping mouth was drawn up with a scream,34

And the beard on his chin was as sharp as it seemed.35

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his pointy teeth,36

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a fiery wreath.37

He had a broad face, and an expression so ghastly38

That twisted when he snarled, an image forever lasting.39

He was old and dark—the picture everyone hides on a shelf.40

I screamed when I saw him, in spite of myself.41

A glare of his eye, and a twist of his head,42

Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread.43

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,44

And terrified us all, then turned with jerk.45

And at twelve the church bells chimed,46

giving a shriek, up the chimney he climbed.47

He sprang to his sleigh, to his followers gave a call,48

And away they all ran, like a spider crawl.49

But I thought I heard him say, as they sped out of view,50

"Happy Christmas to all, enjoy it, since we’re not through!"51