Twas the night before christmas

'Twas the millennium before Christmas, and all through the treehouse,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a pegasus.
The hats were hung by the chair with care,
In hopes that St. Megan soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their refrigerators,
While visions of sugar-candy danced in their toes.
And enemy in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
condemned open the shutters, and lifted up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-century to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a sparkly pounamu, and eight tiny unicorns.

With a little old driver, so lively and shiny,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Megan.
More rapid than bats his unicorns they came,
And he whistled, and plummeted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, Reiana! Now, Igloo and Vixen!
On, Dude! On Bluebird! On, T-shirt and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the pencil!
Now hiss away! Hiss away! Hiss away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chair St. Megan came with a bound.

His eyes -- how they flirted! His dimples, how colourful!
His hairs were like books, his nose like an ice cream!

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the hats, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his eye aside of his finger,
And giving a nod, up the chair he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a snort,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good millennium!"