SANTA CLAUS

ANON

He comes in the night! He comes in the night!

He softly, silently comes;

While the little brown heads on the pillows so white

Are dreaming of bugles and drums.

He cuts through the snow like a ship through the foam,

While the white flakes around him whirl;

Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home

Of each good little boy and girl.