Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the halls
Not a creature was stirring, not even the fleshy balls.
The stockings were hung by the furnace with care
In hopes that St Armok soon would be there.
The Dwarves were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Plump Helmets danced in their heads.
And the mayor in his cape, and the medic in his cap
Had just called a party, 'fore a long winter’s nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the fortifications to see what was the matter.
Away to the front wall I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door, ready to defend our stash.
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 caravan, and eight tinny dwarves
With a little old driver, as old as the rock,
I knew in a moment it must be Armok.
More rapid than gant eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Urist! now, Urist! now, Urist and Urist!
On, Urist! On, Urist! on, on Urist and Urist!
To the top of the Fortifications! 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 gem windows, the dwarves they flew,
With the sleigh full of Adamantim, and St Armok too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and running of each little goof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the volcano shaft St Armok came with a bound.
He was dressed all in magma, from his head to his foot,
And his socks were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Adamantium he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a noble, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his beard how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a crossbow,
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 barrel of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old dwarf,
And I laughed when I saw him, you would too, of course!
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 beard,
And giving a nod, up the furnace he reared!
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,
"Military arc is here! Now your dwarves can bite!"
Author
Topic: Dwarven Limericks (Read 39523 times)