'Twas the night before Pirate Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ship
The wind gently stirred, and the sea waters dripped.
A stocking cap hung on the mast without care
‘cause Darby’d been drinking when last he’d been there.

The crew in their hammocks were nestled, and snoring
While in their heads visions of treasure were roaring
And wrapped in my coat and my fine feathered cap,
I had just settled down for a look at a map.

When out on the deck there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to my cabin door I flew like a gull,
I drew out my sword and scanned from stern to hull.

The moon on the planks of the fair Mystic’s Dream
Lit the wood with a shine, and made cannons to gleam,
When what with my wandering eyes should I sight,
But a ship to portside with sails striped red and white!

With a little old Captain, so lively and quick,
I suspected at once it must be St. Nick,
Over waves like dolphins so quickly it came,
And he shouted to his crew and called them by name!

“Haul the sheets, Dasher! Swab the deck, Vixen!
Heave, Comet! Ho, Cupid! Come to, Don and Blitzen!
With the wind, with the waves, you frost-covered dogs!
Drop anchor! Get ready! And watch for the fog!”

I thought that, perhaps, I should call up the crew-
But then I thought, that's what I ought not to do
So I waited and watched the red ship take her course
And come up right beside us, dropping anchor at port.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard a scrape and a scoot,
The stomping and stepping of an old pirate boot.
As I stepped further out and turned myself around,
Over the gunwale St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in red, from his head to his boots,
And his coat sparkled golden with all sorts of loot,
And a sizable chest was tucked in his grasp,
He looked like a sea dog making off with it fast

His eye how it twinkled- one covered with a patch.
His cheeks were quite red as he unhooked the latch,
His droll little mouth was turned up in a grin,
His white beard was impressive, for it seemed not to end.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it went round his great hat like a wreath,
He had a broad face and a considerable tum,
When he laughed it shook just like a barrel of rum.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old coat,
And I laughed when he boarded from his red and white boat,
A wink of his eye and a tip of his hat,
And I sheathed my cutlass, just like that.

He didn’t speak a word, but he put down the trunk,
Then he took out a bottle, raised it up, then he drunk,
As he tossed me the rum he grabbed onto a rope,
And swung off the railing with a leap and a lope.

He sprang to the helm of his ship with a cry,
Sails unfurled and the wind took them up in the sky,
And I heard him exclaim as he sailed out of sight,
“Merry Christmas, scallywags! Have a bloody good night!”