Luyện nghe bài hát T was the night before Christmas

That's not a song, but a Christmas tale by Clement Clark Moore
(1748-1828)
Special appearances: Taylor-Ann and Hasselhoff

'Twas the before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a
The stockings were hung by the with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon be there;

The children were nestled all snug in beds,
While visions of danced in their heads
And in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just down for a long winter's nap,

out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I from the bed to see what was the matter.
to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and up the sash.

The on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight reindeer,

a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it be St. Nick.
More rapid than his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and them by name;

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash all!"

As dry leaves that the wild hurricane fly,
they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the they flew,
With the full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the
The and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with and soot;
A of toys he had flung on his back,
And he like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the

The stump of a he held tight in his teeth,
And the it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a round belly,
That shook, when he laughed a bowlful of jelly.

He was and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a of his head,
Soon me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went to his work,
And all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his aside of his nose,
And a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He cross the street, who maybe poll freedom,
And away they all flow like the of a kingdom.
But I heard him exclaim, here he out of sight,
Happy to all, and to all a good-night"

(We you a merry Christmas...)