Tuesday, November 2, 2010

T'was the Night Before the Elections



  T’was the Night before Elections
(with apologies to Clement Moore)

T’was the night before the Elections, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The posters were hung by the volunteers with care,
In hopes that a victory soon would be theirs.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While Election excitement danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a pre-election 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 face of the new-posted stickers
Gave the lustre of hope to my fast-beating ticker.
Then, what to my wondering eyes became clear,
A tall gaunt old man with a short dark beard.

His eyes sparkled so brightly, so lively and brave,
I knew in a moment it must be Old Abe.
More rapid than eagles his candidates they came,
And he shouted and waved, and called them by name!

"Now Beohner! now, Angle! now, Sarah and Whitman!
On, Toomey! On, Miller! on, on Carly and Boozman!
To the top of the list! to the front of the hall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves of tea that before a wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the candidates they flew,
With the sleigh full of votes, and Old Abe, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The telling and laughing after each Old Abe spoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Old Abe came with a bound.

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

His eyes-how they twinkled! his smile how happy!
His cheeks were like roses, his beard like a pappy!
His droll fine-lined mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as black as his coat.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a long lean face and a slightly rounded chest,
That bounced when he laughed, like a candidate at his best!

He was friendly and open, a right jolly Old Abe,
And I laughed when I saw him, perhaps not too sage!
But, 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 counted all the ballots, 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 candidates 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 Elections to all, and to all a good-night!"

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