Santa Claus

His sleigh is long and deep and wide

It will carry a host of things

While dozens of drums hang over the side

With the sticks sticking under the strings

And yet not the sound of a drum is heard

Not a bugle blast is blown

As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird

And drops to the hearth like a stone

He cuts through the snow like a ship through the foam

While the white flakes around him whirl

Who tells him I don't know, but he finds the home

Of every little boy and girl

The little red stockings he silently fills

Till the stockings won't hold no more

The bright little sleds for the great snow hills

Are quickly set down on the floor

Then Santa Claus mounts to the roof like a bird

And glides to his seat in the sleigh

Not the sound of a jingle jangle is heard

As he ups and gallops away

He rides to the East and he rides to the West

Of his goodies he touches not one

He eats all the crumbs of the Christmas feast

When the dear little folks are done

Old Santa Claus does the best that he can

This beautiful mission is his

So children be good to the little old man

When you find who the little man is