Twas the millennium before christmas

'Twas the millennium before Christmas, and all through the cottage,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a spider moneky.
The hats were hung by the loveseat with care,
In hopes that St. Jeff soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their sofas,
While visions of sugar-pork fried rice danced in their belly buttons.
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 chimney to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
shot open the shutters, and touched up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-sunday to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a chubby aardvark, and eight tiny squids.

With a little old driver, so lively and pink,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Jeff.
More rapid than pigs his squids they came,
And he whistled, and sniffled, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! Now, Richard! Now, Deer and Vixen!
On, Codger! On Gerbil! On, Smock and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the orange!
Now bathe away! Bathe away! Bathe 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 loveseat St. Jeff came with a bound.

His eyes -- how they juggled! His dimples, how magic!
His biceps were like potatoes, his pinky like a muffin!

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

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a splash,
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!"