It was eight by the clock, and the little ones departed up to cosy Beddy House, tired and happy-hearted, Up the shadowy stairs they went, and in through Sleepy Door, Wondering what old Santa Claus had for them in store. It was twelve by the clock, and still I lingered on, For my work was not completed, the verses were not done; And fast flew my pen across the pages white, While the old clock ticked beside me as I toiled into the night. Then I heard the sound of voices, little feet outside my door, Knick! knock! pitter! pat! fast across the floor; And suddenly the door flew wide, and in there came to me the little fairy people in a goodly company.