The Christmas Steam Train To The North Pole

Do you still believe...?

A warm welcome to tonight’s festive sleep story. In this adventure, you will embark on an enchanted journey aboard the Polar Express, and make your way to the North Pole, where a world of magic and Christmas wonder awaits. I hope you enjoy this heart-warming story, with immersive sound effects and music, to create your very own Christmas movie in your mind.

The story will last for 1 hour, with 30 minutes of soothing train ambience and music as you drift off to sleep.

Music: Liborio Conti & Aaron Kenny
SFX: Homemade & Freesound

Transcript

A warm welcome to this festive sleep story.

Tonight,

You will board a magical steam train and embark on an unforgettable adventure to the North Pole,

A place only open to those who believe.

Before we begin,

We will do a short relaxation session,

Preparing you for a good night's sleep.

Please remember that there is no right or wrong here,

And there is no particular way that you should feel in these moments.

Each experience is as unique as us all,

So try to let go of any pressure you might be putting on yourself to feel certain things or perhaps to fall asleep quickly tonight.

It doesn't matter if you do or you don't.

If you simply follow my voice and allow this story to wash over you,

Then you will enter a world of deep relaxation,

Where you can rest and recover.

So,

When you are ready,

Just feel the eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with each passing blink,

Until they gently close.

Remind yourself that this is your time to relax.

There is nothing left to do and nothing left to think.

The day is done now.

Whatever has happened is already in the past,

And here,

In this moment,

The future is beyond our reach.

So if thoughts arise about the day or the week that has been,

Or the days ahead of you,

Then acknowledge that these thoughts are completely normal and valid.

They are part of what makes us human,

Which is a wonderful thing.

But also kindly remind yourself that these thoughts or concerns are of no use to us now,

And tonight,

There is no need to engage with them.

They are simply thoughts,

As fleeting as shooting stars across a night sky.

You are safe tonight,

And you are protected.

You can be reassured by the fact that my voice and this story will never take you anywhere that is unpleasant.

Your sleepy cat is simply here to guide you on your own twilight adventures,

And to help you enter a world of magic and peace,

Where you can be completely free.

And now,

We will do a short guided breathing pattern called 3-4-5.

This will allow you to slow down and relax,

Preparing your body and your mind for a wonderful,

Peaceful rest.

When you are ready,

Breathe in through the nose for three,

Hold for four,

And breathe out for five.

Let all of it go now.

Again,

That's in for three,

Hold for four,

And release,

Blowing away the thoughts of yesterday,

Today,

And tomorrow.

Again,

In for three,

Hold,

And let it go.

Continue to breathe in this way in your own time,

And with each breath out,

Allow your body to sink just that bit deeper.

And now,

Allow the breath to fall back into a natural rhythm.

Enjoy this new peace flowing through your body.

As you continue to relax and go deeper into a world of comfort,

You can allow your mind to soften and your imagination to unlock as we prepare to go on a magical adventure and enjoy a journey to the North Pole.

You are lying in bed on a cool Christmas Eve,

Wrapped up warm in your duvet.

Right now,

You are finding it a little bit challenging to sleep and you find that your mind is distracted.

A single Christmas bell rests on your bedside table,

Gathering dust on its dull and slightly rusty exterior.

You pick it up and give it a shake,

Only nothing happens.

You cannot even remember where this came from,

Probably an old toy from years ago.

It is almost as old as you,

And for some reason,

You have kept it.

As you hold it in your hand,

You cast your mind back to childhood and you are reminded of an old Christmas poem.

T'was 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 children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugarplums 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.

You find it hard to remember any more of the poem.

You look at the bell in your hand and shake it again,

But still nothing.

Perhaps it is broken.

A burning question lingers in your mind,

A question that lingers in the mind of every grown-up on Christmas Eve,

Still clinging to fragments of childhood wonder.

Do you believe?

It's in the next moment that a bright golden light suddenly shines through your window.

In your room,

It's as if time has stood still and the night is holding its breath,

Waiting for a little bit of magic to arrive.

And then,

Far off in the distance,

You hear it.

A train.

There are no railroads nearby,

But there is no mistaking this sound.

The steady chugging grows louder and you hear a proud blast from the chimney.

You climb out of bed,

Shuffle over to your window,

And draw back the curtain,

Rubbing away some of the condensation from the frosted glass.

And there,

Glistening in the moonlight and backed by a falling snow,

Is a huge blue steam train with a giant snowplow on the front and a single spotlight in the exact middle.

Your house is silent,

And the other houses outside your window still have their lights off,

But surely others have heard or seen this train.

Something stirs in you,

Something you haven't felt on Christmas Eve for a long time.

Excitement.

Without another hesitation,

You quickly put on some winter clothes,

Place the Christmas bell in your pocket,

And race downstairs,

Eager to see what is going on.

You open your front door and step out into the stillness of the night.

The cool air kisses your cheeks and the snow-covered ground sparkles with delight underneath the full moon.

The trees stand still and proud,

Like silent sentinels with frost.

You walk round the corner and are greeted by the navy blue train,

Pulsing with a magical glow around it and lined with a gold trim.

Reams upon reams of fairy lights are hanging in the carriage windows,

Warm and inviting.

There is a soft silver steam drifting up from the black chimney and the wisps ripple through the shimmering moonlight.

The train sits on a long stretch of railroad that continues on as far as you can see,

And there is a soft stardust radiating around it.

You know that these tracks were not there before.

The side door of the front carriage swings open and you are met by the kind face of the conductor,

Sporting a blue and gold uniform and a rather chunky mustache.

He tips his blue hat to you and you return a smile.

The conductor has an angelic and otherworldly presence and instantly you feel safe and protected.

With a deep but kind voice,

He greets you.

Well,

Hello there,

We weren't sure if you were coming,

But something told me to wait just a little bit longer.

Some people need more time than others.

You glance to the carriage windows and see many happy and excited faces looking down at you,

People of all ages.

And there you see your best friend waving at you,

Beckoning for you to come aboard.

Well,

We don't have all night,

The conductor says,

His kind eyes smiling.

Ticket,

Please,

And then we'll be off.

You hesitate,

Suddenly nervous.

You don't have a ticket.

The conductor clears his throat and taps his left breast pocket with a raise of his eyebrows.

You check your same pocket,

Gasp with disbelief and draw out the golden ticket.

And with black calligraphy,

You see your name underneath which is written,

Round trip to the North Pole.

You hand over your ticket and watch the conductor hole punch at lightning speed.

When he hands it back to you,

You see one word punched in capital letters,

Believe.

The conductor offers you a hand,

His eyes sparkling with magic and mischief.

You take his hand,

Allowing him to help you aboard.

And the moment you walk into your carriage,

The steam train gives a proud toot and sets off once again.

And gradually,

The magic of the train unfolds before you.

The first thing you feel is a beautiful warmth wrapping around you like a soft blanket,

Instantly comforting you.

The air is thick and mingled with old ancient enchantments.

And drifting by you is a collection of soothing smells,

Lavender,

Cinnamon and pine,

Roasted chestnuts,

Gingerbread and even hot chocolate.

The interior of the carriage is much bigger than it looks from the outside,

And it's as if you have stepped into another world entirely.

Along each side are rows of very comfortable looking armchairs,

Illuminated by hanging oil lanterns and the fairy lights in the windows.

You glance around the seats for the first time,

Taking note of all the other passengers.

You couldn't find a more varied group of people if you tried.

There were plenty around the same age as you,

Including your best friend,

Who as soon as you lock eyes comes running over to you,

And you embrace with a familiar warm hug.

There are tiny tots holding their teddy bears,

Eyes aglow with wonder.

The older children are a bit more reserved,

But no less excited.

You see parents holding hands,

Younger couples,

Older couples and even a few grandparents basking in the nostalgia and gripping their tickets so tightly as if it were the most precious gift.

This group of people all share one thing,

Something unmistakable,

The spark of belief in their eyes.

You are reminded of your Christmas bell,

And you take it from your pocket and try it again.

There is a slight scratching sound,

The clapper scraping on the inside of the bell perhaps,

But nothing more.

Belief is something that has perhaps faded for you over the years and might be difficult to come by,

But all of that is about to change.

Your best friend leads you down the train,

And you arrive at two luxurious armchairs covered with blankets.

You take a seat and enjoy this new sensation of sinking as the cushions mold to your form perfectly.

You pull a blanket over your body and breathe a slow,

Satisfied sigh.

There is a new comfort and peace within you,

And you feel ready to surrender to this moment,

To let the train carry you off to a magical world.

Over to your right is a dark oak counter lined with polished brass.

Behind the counter stands the conductor stirring a bubbling pot of hot chocolate,

And you marvel at how your enchanted guardian can seem to be in multiple places at once.

One by one,

The conductor fills a collection of decorative mugs with the hot chocolate and places them onto a brass trolley.

Then he weaves his way down through the carriage,

And even as he turns and moves at pace,

The chocolate stays completely still in the mugs.

You and your friend both take a mug from the trolley with thanks,

And instantly,

You feel the warmth filling your hands and the irresistible smell wafting under your nose.

As you sit and sip this hypnotic,

Velvety drink,

You gaze out of the window,

And this is the first chance you have had to really take in the view.

The world outside is illuminated by the moon,

And silver stars pepper the night.

Endless rolling hills are carpeted with fresh snow.

Bare trees are dotted through the countryside,

Each one with their own little dusting of frost.

Occasionally,

You pass by rivers,

Streams,

And huge lakes now frozen solid.

The glow of the moon reflects off the ice,

Creating dazzling patterns that sparkle like freshly cut diamonds.

Across the land,

You catch glimpses of wildlife.

There are families of rabbits hopping through the shrubbery and finding shelter from the cold.

A parliament of owls glides over the trees,

A beautiful blend of gray,

White,

And brown.

Now and then,

Their luminous amber eyes flick towards the train,

Shimmering against the light of the moon.

Beside the train,

You see deer and stag galloping along the snowy banks,

And all of these creatures seem compelled to follow your journey,

As if they are fueled by the magic of the train and guarding you on your adventure.

As you continue to enjoy your drink and feel yourself relaxing even deeper,

You share a smile with your best friend,

Who tells you that recently,

They had stopped believing altogether.

They admit that they are not even sure if this moment is real,

Or if it is a dream.

Either way,

They tell you they are so happy that you are with them tonight.

You nod in agreement,

Grateful for their company too.

But somehow,

You just know in your heart that this is no dream.

The train plows on through the night.

It does not stop,

It does not falter.

You know that nothing can find you tonight,

And you are completely safe here.

Once again,

You are greeted by the Conductor,

The overseer of this magical journey,

Who is stopping by to chat with the passengers.

He starts to tell you fascinating stories about the North Pole,

Painting vivid images with his words.

Your imagination runs wild with pictures of a frosted road illuminated by candy-cane streetlights and lined with houses made from gingerbread.

You are told stories of the enchanted elves who live at the Pole inside the gingerbread houses,

And who work for the big man himself.

They start and end their day with a cheery song,

And they use their powers to help craft the toys and presents for all the children and grown-ups around the world.

The elves are treated to delicious feasts created by the magic of Mrs.

Claus,

And together they all live in perfect peace and harmony.

The Conductor's voice is hypnotic,

Following the rhythm of the train,

And his descriptions are so colorful and detailed that you can almost taste the sweet candy-cane street lamps and the rich gingerbread.

Almost hear the laughter and the music of the elves,

And feel the magical kiss of the North Pole wind.

Everyone is captivated by his words.

The children stare wide-eyed,

And one or two of the older passengers are wiping away a happy tear.

The train is alive with excitement,

Wonder,

And joy.

And,

Gradually now,

Outside the window,

The bare trees slowly transform into huge Christmas trees of fir and pine.

Each tree has a collection of colorful Christmas lights,

Which gives the impression of a multi-colored galaxy shimmering across the endless snowy landscape.

In front of the train,

You see two giant walls of ice with a seemingly paper-thin gap in the middle.

You glance at the Conductor,

A slightly nervous feeling in your stomach,

But he simply smiles,

Tips his hat,

And tells you to hold on tight.

Instantly,

The train seems to elongate,

Stretching up high,

And a weightlessness washes over you as you feel yourself lift just an inch or two from your chair.

And then,

The train enters this tunnel of ice,

And outside the window now is nothing more than a bright turquoise glow,

As if you are suddenly underwater.

Before you know it,

The train morphs back to its original shape and emerges from the icy tunnel.

And,

As you swoop down into the North Pole Village,

You are met by the most beautiful sight.

There are the candy cane lights lining the streets and twisting in red and white,

Exactly as described.

You see rows upon rows of perfectly crafted gingerbread houses,

Each with their own unique frosting on their roofs,

And different sweets and gumdrops dotted throughout.

Across the land,

You can see beautiful ice sculptures,

Sparkling with stardust.

In the middle of the village is a landing pad with glowing lights of red and white that create the outline of a Santa hat.

Behind this is the biggest Christmas tree that you have ever seen,

Decorated with colorful baubles,

Pulsing fairy lights,

And handcrafted trinkets.

And perched at the very top is a vibrant silver star,

Keeping watch over this magical place.

The train grinds to a slow and steady halt and announces its arrival at the village.

From your window,

You can see many of the elves coming out of different workshops,

Cheering and waving towards the train.

You share an excited look with your best friend,

And you allow yourself to enjoy this moment,

To really see everything that is unfolding before you.

The conductor leads everyone off the train,

And one by one,

The passengers head out into the cool,

Crisp air.

As you are about to leave,

You check your pocket and realize that your Christmas bell has gone.

You cannot find it.

Before the panic sets in,

The conductor places a hand on your shoulder,

And his kind eyes instantly reassure you.

He tells you there is no need to worry now,

It's bound to be on the train somewhere.

You leave it with me,

I'll find your Christmas bell.

In the meantime,

We don't have long here in the North Pole,

So go and explore to your heart's content.

You step down into the soft,

Crunchy snow and take a slow,

Deep breath in,

As you take in every little detail of your new surroundings.

A brass band of elves plays in the village square,

And the music carries with it a Christmas nostalgia.

It is familiar,

Yet somehow new.

A huge crowd has gathered to welcome you.

Many of the elves are still working,

And you can see some tightening the wheels on toy trains,

Fixing jewelry on bracelets and necklaces,

Or filling rows of candles with melted wax.

Others carry stacks of wrapped presents,

And orderly queues are forming from the entrances of different workshops,

All meeting together at the landing pad.

With a bubbling excitement,

You walk over to the landing pad with your friend,

Following a line of elves with a new intrigue,

And you are positively overwhelmed by all of the magic that envelops you.

And just then,

The landing pad opens,

And rising up from the darkness is a huge glistening sleigh sparkling in red and gold.

The sleigh itself is empty for now,

But it is accompanied by nine beautiful reindeer.

The reindeer stand two by two,

And as you work your way along the line,

You read their little golden name tags.

There is Dasher and Dancer,

Prancer and Vixen,

Comet and Cupid,

And Donner and Blitzen.

And at the front,

Leading with his shiny red nose,

Is,

Of course,

Rudolph.

After all these years,

All those times you left him carrots on Christmas Eve,

You are finally meeting him.

You are speechless.

Rudolph's gentle eyes flick to meet yours,

And you offer him a stroke on the top of his head.

You know he has a long and busy night ahead,

But you make sure to whisper your address into his ear.

In the next moment,

One of the elves taps you on the arm,

And they gesture for you and your friend to follow them,

As they shuffle quickly away in the direction of a huge workshop made,

Of course,

From gingerbread.

Inside the workshop,

The brass band fades to black,

To a low hum,

And you are met by a wall crackling fire,

A ticking clock keeping perfect time,

And a whole host of elves working away on the final presents.

This particular workshop is focused on toys.

There is a huge conveyor belt moving very slowly,

And different elves are appointed at different stations.

At the far end of the belt,

You see a clear tube blowing down letters to Santa.

The head elf takes the letters and begins to call out a present list.

Then,

A large group of elves start to build and create all of the presents from scratch,

Carving and gluing wood,

Or welding together metal or plastic.

Once finished,

They are put on the belt and moved along to the more artistic elves,

Who paint and draw the necessary colors,

Designs,

And logos.

Next comes the durability test,

And these elves take miniature hammers and tap in certain parts of the toys,

Making sure that everything is safe and well made.

From above,

A handful of elves are working on electrical circuits and dropping them down for any of the electronic devices.

Finally,

The toys arrive at the official testers,

And this is arguably the best job of them all,

And it is appointed to those elves who are closer to retirement.

You see the older elves now,

With tufts of gray hair and thick spectacles,

Trying out different toys.

Wooden horses,

Board games,

Consoles,

Remote control cars,

Doll houses,

Instruments,

And much more.

After each toy is tested,

It is wrapped up and placed back on the belt,

Which takes them over to a large cart,

And when full,

This will be wheeled out to the sleigh.

It truly is a marvel to behold this workshop and to get a glimpse into the magic.

Gradually,

You watch the last few toys being wrapped,

Labeled,

And moved along the belt to the now full cart.

Your best friend runs over to help the elves as they push it slowly but surely out of the workshop,

All humming a happy tune in celebration of a Christmas Eve well spent.

But it's then,

As the elves and your friend are just leaving the workshop,

That a very tiny present falls out of the cart.

It tumbles and rolls all the way past you,

Coming to a stop at the other side of the now empty workshop.

You run over and pick up the present,

Determined to find the elves and your friend and return it to its rightful place.

As you leave the workshop,

The village is even busier.

The brass band plays on,

And you can see many of the other travelers who came with you on the train,

But not your best friend.

You weave through the crowd,

Trying to shuffle to the front.

But as you nearly get there,

The whole village falls silent,

And a new magic starts to swell in the air.

And then,

The most wonderful Christmas spirit fills your heart as you see them.

Appearing from behind the huge Christmas tree,

You see Santa and Mrs.

Claus.

They are waving to the crowd and shaking hands with some of the elves.

Their presence is completely magnetic,

And the whole village stares in awe.

Santa Claus is larger than life.

His shimmering red suit glistens against his flowing white beard.

His half-moon spectacles rest on the bridge of his nose,

And his bright blue eyes twinkle with kindness.

As he waddles over to his reindeer,

Chuckling away,

The silver bells on his big black boots jingle gently,

And with each jingle comes a fresh bout of snowfall.

A gentle murmur starts to fill the crowd again,

As the excitement grows.

For the Christmas Eve delivery grows.

Mrs.

Claus is much smaller than big plump Santa,

But she is as equally charismatic.

You even overhear one of the elves telling another that one year,

Santa was in bed with the flu,

And so they were commissioned to make a fake beard for Mrs.

Claus.

She took out the reindeer on that Christmas Eve,

Laid out the presents,

Enjoyed the sherry,

The milk,

The mince pies,

And so forth,

And all of the children were none the wiser.

As Santa approaches the sleigh,

The elves put the last couple of presents in the sack,

Which is now filled sky high,

And Mrs.

Claus casts a magic spell as the bag is sealed shut.

With urgency,

You step forward and call out Santa's name,

Holding up the lost present high above you.

The gathering crowd falls quiet,

And the twinkling eyes of Saint Nick meet yours.

Well,

It appears I am missing one present.

Would you please step forward and bring it to me?

I'm afraid my legs don't work like they used to.

With all eyes on you,

You slowly step up to the landing pad,

Walk past the reindeer,

Until at last you are standing in the middle of the village,

Face to face with Santa Claus.

He smiles at you through his thick beard,

His eyes alive with mischief and magic.

Hmm,

It's very good of you to bring this present to me,

But I think perhaps you should check the label.

You glance down at the tiny wrapped ball in your hand and turn over the tag hanging from it.

It is your name.

You look to Santa,

Eyes wide with amazement,

And he gives you a wink.

In the crowd,

You suddenly spot the conductor and your best friend,

Both of whom are gesturing for you to open it.

You tear open the wrapping and reveal your lost Christmas bell.

It looks brand new.

The silver shines like never before.

The rust has disappeared and you can actually see your reflection.

For a split second,

You could have sworn that in the reflection,

You saw yourself as a child,

Eyes wide with wonder and enchantment.

Then,

Santa asks you the all-important question.

Tell me,

Do you believe?

You hold the bell to your ear,

Give it a gentle shake and hear the most wonderful jingle.

This is the only answer you need.

You throw yourself into Santa's arms and share a warm embrace,

And the crowd goes up in a rapturous applause.

You realize now that this is what magic feels like if you just let it in.

You are a believer.

And now,

Santa places a hand on your shoulder and whispers to you.

Remember,

This bell rings for those who believe.

Keep it close and it will keep you safe.

Let it be a reminder of this wonderful Christmas Eve.

And never stop believing,

Especially in yourself.

In the next moment,

Santa floats himself up into the air and lands perfectly in his sleigh.

He kisses Mrs.

Claus and then waves to the adoring crowd as bit by bit,

His sleigh lifts off the ground and the reindeer ready themselves.

His call echoes across the village now,

And you stare up in wonder as you see Santa starting his midnight adventure.

Now Dasher,

Now Dancer,

Now Prancer and Vixen,

On Comet,

On Cupid,

On Donner and Blitzen,

To the top of the porch,

To the top of the wall,

Now dash away,

Dash away,

Dash away all.

There is a thunderous applause,

Cheering and even some weeping coming from the crowd of elves and visitors.

Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night.

You are met once again by the kind face of the conductor,

Who asks if you are ready for one final spark of magic.

He clicks his fingers and the world around you starts to move in slow motion.

The colors blur,

The details of the village are fading,

And the image of the Christmas Express is greeting you.

The world comes into focus again,

And you are back aboard the Express,

Side by side with your best friend and in your two luxurious armchairs.

As the train pulls away from the station,

The conductor gives a warm smile and tells you all,

Get yourself comfortable folks,

It's a nice long journey back home,

The perfect time for some sleep,

Don't you think?

You gaze out of the window and wave to all of the elves who are still cheering and celebrating.

You look across the village and try to take in all of the lovely little details.

The train ventures back through the two cliffs of ice,

And eventually emerges once again into the rolling countryside,

Which is still illuminated by the moon.

And still covered with fresh untouched snow,

And dotted with pulsing Christmas trees.

High above you,

A single shooting star blazes across the sky,

And you wonder if this is in fact Santa Claus,

Making his way around the globe and bringing joy to millions of boys and girls.

The beautiful repetition of the train lulls you into a deep comfort.

You still feel the excitement of the evening and the events that have unfolded,

But you are greeted now by a new tranquility,

One that comes with the promise of a restful sleep and magical dreams.

You let the cushions of your seat form to your body again,

Supporting you in all the right places,

And almost cradling you as the train gently rocks from left to right.

You take the bell from your pocket one last time,

And give it a gentle shake,

Remembering Santa's words as clear as day,

Never stop believing,

Especially in yourself.

All through the carriage now,

The passengers begin to settle down and get ready to sleep.

Some people are enjoying another hot chocolate,

Or looking out of the window,

Curled up on their armchairs.

Your best friend offers you the sleepiest smile you have ever seen,

And you watch them drifting,

Drifting,

And drifting,

Until at last their head drops and a gentle snoring begins.

Outside your window,

The moon is composing its own hypnotic symphony.

This melody,

Coupled with the soothing sounds of the train,

Brings you even deeper into relaxation.

You feel your eyes growing heavy,

And each blink is slower and slower.

As the express carries you home,

You know that tonight,

You will be guarded by the magic of the North Pole,

The moon and the stars,

And of course,

This wonderful train.

You know that your dreams will be pure and beautiful,

And that tomorrow,

You will awake feeling refreshed,

Renewed and energized.

The wonder of the night is sending you off to sleep,

And as you drift deeper and deeper,

You allow the Christmas poem to fill your mind again,

To see if you can remember it all now that you are a believer.

T'was 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 children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugarplums 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 gave the luster of midday to objects below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St.

Nick.

More rapid than eagles his courses they came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

Now Dasher,

Now Dancer,

Now Prancer and Vixen,

On Comet,

On Cupid,

On Donner and Blitzen.

To the top of the porch,

To the top of the wall,

Now dash away,

Dash away,

Dash away.

All as dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle,

Mount to the sky.

So up to the housetop the courses they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys and St.

Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney St.

Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes how they twinkled,

His dimples how merry,

His cheeks were like roses,

His nose like a cherry.

His drawl little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

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

And the smoke encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump,

A right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word,

But went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings,

Then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod,

Up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh,

To his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim,

Ere he drove out of sight,

Happy Christmas to all,

And to all a good night.