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This is posted on the J.Peterman website but it's worth sharing here as well. link at end of post.
The Poem of Christmas Eve
December 24, 2008
Influential, you might say it was.
Never before had anyone thought of the solemn St. Nicholas, the dignified patron Saint of Children, as someone with rosy cheeks. Or capable of squeezing down a chimney. Or ever having a jolly good time, for that matter.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...
We found out when he was arriving, his mode of transportation and the number and names of his gravity-defying friends.
Now, Dasher! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
And what the well-dressed Santa, circa 1800s, looked like. And what he was bringing.
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.
The little poem he delighted his own children with probably didn't seem important. Fortunately, Miss H. Butler, a family friend, thought it was. She's believed to have sent a copy of "Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas" to a newspaper that could publish it under one condition. It was to remain anonymous.
And that's how it was first published in the Troy, New York Sentinel on December 23, 1823.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore acknowledged he wrote it when the work was included in a book of his poetry. Reading Twas the Night before Christmas on Christmas Eve is now a revered tradition.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf. . .Santa in knickers, climbing in chimney...
The man, who never wanted the limelight, a professor of Oriental and Greek literature at Columbia College, had a hit on his hands.
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."
The transformation was complete. With a nod to Thomas Nast's illustrations, Saint Nicholas became the fat, jolly man wearing a red coat and trousers with white cuffs and collar, black leather belt and boots.
Some people think it's wrong for children to believe in Santa Claus.
I turn to the authority on the subject, the movie "The Miracle on 34th Street," for their answer.
"Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
That's good enough for me. How about you?
http://www.petermanseye.com/curiosities/history/418-the-poem-of-christmas-eve
The Poem of Christmas Eve
December 24, 2008
Influential, you might say it was.
Never before had anyone thought of the solemn St. Nicholas, the dignified patron Saint of Children, as someone with rosy cheeks. Or capable of squeezing down a chimney. Or ever having a jolly good time, for that matter.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...
We found out when he was arriving, his mode of transportation and the number and names of his gravity-defying friends.
Now, Dasher! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
And what the well-dressed Santa, circa 1800s, looked like. And what he was bringing.
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.
The little poem he delighted his own children with probably didn't seem important. Fortunately, Miss H. Butler, a family friend, thought it was. She's believed to have sent a copy of "Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas" to a newspaper that could publish it under one condition. It was to remain anonymous.
And that's how it was first published in the Troy, New York Sentinel on December 23, 1823.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore acknowledged he wrote it when the work was included in a book of his poetry. Reading Twas the Night before Christmas on Christmas Eve is now a revered tradition.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf. . .Santa in knickers, climbing in chimney...
The man, who never wanted the limelight, a professor of Oriental and Greek literature at Columbia College, had a hit on his hands.
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."
The transformation was complete. With a nod to Thomas Nast's illustrations, Saint Nicholas became the fat, jolly man wearing a red coat and trousers with white cuffs and collar, black leather belt and boots.
Some people think it's wrong for children to believe in Santa Claus.
I turn to the authority on the subject, the movie "The Miracle on 34th Street," for their answer.
"Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
That's good enough for me. How about you?
http://www.petermanseye.com/curiosities/history/418-the-poem-of-christmas-eve
