Category Archives: Christmas

‘Twas the Night before Christmas by Clement C. Moore

Standard

‘Twas 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 sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains 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 and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering 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 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, _Donder_ 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 house-top the coursers 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 droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the 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 round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful 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.”

Published by Houghton Mifflin Company, 1912

Source: Project Gutenberg

Advertisements

Six white boomers by Rolf Harris

Standard
Early on one Christmas Day a joey kangaroo,
Was far from home and lost in a great big zoo.
‘Mummy, where’s my mummy? They’ve taken her away.’
We’ll help you find your mummy, son. Hop up on the sleigh.’
Up beside the bag of toys little joey hopped,
But they hadn’t gone far when Santa stopped.
Unharnessed all the reindeer and Joey wondered why,
Then he heard a far off booming in the sky.

Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
On his Australian run.

Pretty soon old Santa began to feel the heat,
Took his fur lined boots off to cool his feet,
Into one popped Joey, feeling quite okay,
While those old man Kangaroos kept pulling on the sleigh.

Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
On his Australian run.

Joey said to Santa, ‘Santa, what about the toys?
Aren’t you iving some to these girls and boys?’
‘They’ve got all their presents, son, we were here last night,
this trip is an extra trip, Joey’s special flight.’

Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
On his Australian run.

Soon the sleigh was flashing past right over Marble Bar,
‘Slow down there,’ cried Santa, ‘it can’t be far,
Come up on my lap here, son, and have a look around.’
‘There she is, that’s mummy, bounding up and down.’

Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
On his Australian run.

Well that’s the bestest Christmas treat that Joey ever had,
Curled up in mother’s pouch feeling snug and glad.
The last they saw was Santa heading northwards from the sun,
The only year the boomers worked a double run.

Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
Racing Santa Claus through the blazing sun.
Six white boomers, snow white boomers,
On his Australian run.

Christmas where the gum trees grow by Lesley Sabogal

Standard

Christmas where the gum trees grow, there is no frost and there is no snow,
Christmas in Australia’s hot,
cold and frosty’s what it’s not,
when the bloom of the jacaranda tree is here,
Christmas time is near.

From England came our Christmas fare,
they even said what Santa should wear,
But here down under for summer’s cool,
Santa should dip in a swimming pool.

Christmas where the gumtrees grow,
there is no frost and there is no snow,
Christmas in Australia’s hot,
cold and frosty’s what it’s not,
when the bloom of the jacaranda tree is here,
Christmas time is near.

Santa rides in a sleigh on snow,
but down here where the gumtrees grow,
Santa should wear some water skis,
and glide around Australia with ease.

Christmas where the gumtrees grow,
there is no frost and there is no snow,
Christmas in Australia’s hot,
cold and frosty’s what it’s not,
when the bloom of the jacaranda tree is here,
Christmas time is near.

To ride around the bush where it’s dry,
to cart all the presents piled so high,
a red nosed reindeer would never do,
Santa should jump on a kangaroo.

Christmas where the gumtrees grow,
there is no frost and there is no snow,
Christmas in Australia’s hot,
cold and frosty’s what it’s not,
when the bloom of the jacaranda tree is here,
Christmas time is near.

Carol of the birds by William Garnet James and John Wheeler

Standard

Out on the plains the brolgas are dancing
Lifting their feet like war horses prancing
Up to the sun the woodlarks go winging
Faint in the dawn light echoes their singing
Orana!  Orana!  Orana to Christmas Day

 

Down where the tree ferns grow by the river
There where the waters sparkle and quiver
Deep in the gullies bell-birds are chiming
Softly and sweetly their lyric notes rhyming
Orana!  Orana!  Orana to Christmas Day

 

Friar birds sip the nectar of flowers
Currawongs chant in the wattle tree bowers
In the blue ranges lorikeets calling
Carols of bushbirds rising and falling
Orana!  Orana!  Orana to Christmas Day


The word “Orana”  means  “Welcome”

Three drovers by John Wheeler

Standard

Across the plains one Christmas night
Three drovers riding blithe and gay,
Looked up and saw a starry light
More radiant than the Milky Way;
And on their hearts such wonder fell,
They sang with joy. ‘Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel!’

The air was dry with summer heat,
And smoke was on the yellow moon;
But from the heavens, faint and sweet,
Came floating down a wond’rous turn;
And as they heard, they sang full well
Those drovers three. ‘Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel!’

The black swans flew across the sky,
The wild dog called across the plain,
The starry lustre blazed on high,
Still echoed on the heavenly strain;
And still they sang, ‘Noel! Noel!’
Those drovers three. ‘Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel! Noel!’

Christmas where the gum trees grow by Val Donlan and Lesley Sabogal

Standard
 
Christmas where the gum trees grow
There is no frost and there is no snow
Christmas in Australia's hot
Cold and frosty is what its not
When the bloom of the Jackaranda tree is here
Christmas time is near

From England came our Christmas fare
They even said what Santa should wear
But here down under for summers cool
Santa should dip in a swimming pool

Christmas where the gum trees grow
There is no frost and there is no snow
Christmas in Australia's hot
Cold and frosty is what its not
When the bloom of the Jackaranda tree is here
Christmas time is near

Santa rides in a sleigh on snow
But down here where the gum trees grow
Santa should wear some water ski's
And glide around Australia with ease

Christmas where the gum trees grow
There is no frost and there is no snow
Christmas in Australia's hot
Cold and frosty is what its not
When the bloom of the Jackaranda tree is here
Christmas time is near

To ride around the bush where its dry
To cart all the presents piled so high
A red nosed reindeer would never do
Santa should jump on a kangaroo

Christmas where the gum trees grow
There is no frost and there is no snow
Christmas in Australia's hot
Cold and frosty is what its not
When the bloom of the Jackaranda tree is here
Christmas time is near