A Visit From St. Nick - Poetry Reading at Christmastime
Description
Read MoreVocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
A visit from ST Nicholas by clement Clarke moore towards 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 the hopes that ST Nicholas would soon be there. The Children 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 set down for a long winter's nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash tore open, the shutters, 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 wondering eyes should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight times any 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 coursers. 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 war! Wild hurricane fly, when they made up an obstacle mount to the sky. So up to the house top the coursers, they flew with slaves full of toys, and Saint Nicholas too, and then in a twinkling I heard on the roof, the prancing and pouring 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 droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as snow, 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 row 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 that I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight merry christmas to all and to all. A good night Reading by Gavin Winship CV FM 104 .5.