Luyện nghe bài hát T was the night before Christmas

That's not a song, but a Christmas tale written by Clark Moore
(1748-1828)
Special Taylor-Ann and Hayley-Amber Hasselhoff

'Twas the night before Christmas, all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney care,
In hopes St. Nicholas soon would be there;

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

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

The on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to below,
When, to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so and quick,
I knew in a it must be St. Nick.
rapid than eagles 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 that before the wild hurricane fly,
When meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the the coursers they flew,
With the full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

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

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

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his how merry!
His were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held in his teeth,
And the smoke it his head like a wreath;
He had a broad and a little round belly,
That shook, when he like 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 filled all the stockings; then turned a jerk,
And laying his aside of his nose,
And a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He broke cross the street, who maybe freedom,
And they all flow like the dark of a kingdom.
But I him exclaim, here he drove out of sight,
Christmas to all, and to all a good-night"

(We you a merry Christmas...)