A Visit from Mr. Dominic--most of you will get this
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The childlings were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
shone an eerie pale light on the objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a man who seemed every child's picture of fear.
A whisper-thin horror so nimble and quick,
It only could be good Mister Dominic.
More rapid than eagles, his monsters they came,
and the wind hissed his words as he whispered their names:
"Now Shmendrick! Now Shelob!
All things horned and hairy!
On, ghoulies! On, ghosties!
On As and on Jerry!
Underneath every porch!
And above every wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"
And in every direction vile creatures did hark,
The things that make children afraid of the dark.
They crawled and they shambled, they oozed and they flew,
And toward my house came Mister Dominic, too.
And then from my roof came that terrible fright:
the bump of the thing that goes bump in the night.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
and through the chimney Dominic came crawling down.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
He carried a bundle of toys on his back,
and he looked like Jack Skellington holding a sack.
His eyes--black as night, over sunken white cheeks,
He stank like the smell that from ancient books reeks.
His horrid black lips were drawn up like a bow,
and the rest of his skin was as white as the snow.
The lips parted, showing black gums with no teeth,
and the shadows encircled his head like a wreath.
From the sack came Real Dead Dolls and a copy of Freaks,
Momento Mori and old battered antiques.
He strode through my home like the Grim Reaper himself,
Leaving macabre presents on each table and shelf.
Each twisted gift was quite plainly top dime;
It seems even nightmares do love Christmastime.
He spoke not a word, but went through every room,
The slow measured footstep, the figure that loomed.
He stopped by the children (and oh! how they bawled),
And, then, his work done, up the chimney he crawled.
As he sprang to the roof and walked into the dark,
And the creatures all vanished 'fore the sound of the lark.
But I heard the wind hiss, 'ere he strode out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The childlings were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
shone an eerie pale light on the objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a man who seemed every child's picture of fear.
A whisper-thin horror so nimble and quick,
It only could be good Mister Dominic.
More rapid than eagles, his monsters they came,
and the wind hissed his words as he whispered their names:
"Now Shmendrick! Now Shelob!
All things horned and hairy!
On, ghoulies! On, ghosties!
On As and on Jerry!
Underneath every porch!
And above every wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"
And in every direction vile creatures did hark,
The things that make children afraid of the dark.
They crawled and they shambled, they oozed and they flew,
And toward my house came Mister Dominic, too.
And then from my roof came that terrible fright:
the bump of the thing that goes bump in the night.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
and through the chimney Dominic came crawling down.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
He carried a bundle of toys on his back,
and he looked like Jack Skellington holding a sack.
His eyes--black as night, over sunken white cheeks,
He stank like the smell that from ancient books reeks.
His horrid black lips were drawn up like a bow,
and the rest of his skin was as white as the snow.
The lips parted, showing black gums with no teeth,
and the shadows encircled his head like a wreath.
From the sack came Real Dead Dolls and a copy of Freaks,
Momento Mori and old battered antiques.
He strode through my home like the Grim Reaper himself,
Leaving macabre presents on each table and shelf.
Each twisted gift was quite plainly top dime;
It seems even nightmares do love Christmastime.
He spoke not a word, but went through every room,
The slow measured footstep, the figure that loomed.
He stopped by the children (and oh! how they bawled),
And, then, his work done, up the chimney he crawled.
As he sprang to the roof and walked into the dark,
And the creatures all vanished 'fore the sound of the lark.
But I heard the wind hiss, 'ere he strode out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"