The Night Before Ale Fest

'Twas the night before Ale Fest

'Twas the night before Ale Fest, in good old Naperville,

Not a pint was stirring, the town was quite still.

The growlers were placed by the door with great care,

In hopes that the Ale Fest soon would be there.

The adults were nestled, all snug in their homes,

Dreams of hoppy IPAs and frothy beer foams.

And I with my pint glass, and my mate with her cup,

Had just settled our palates for a long winter's sup.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my stool to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a keg,

Tore open the shutters, and saw a beer leg.

As dry hops that before the wild fermentation fly,

When they meet with an ale, mount to the sky;

So up to the rooftop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of beer, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The clinking and clanking of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in flannel, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all garnished with barley and soot;

A bundle of hops he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a brewmaster opening his pack.

The moon on the crest of the new-fallen snow

Illuminated breweries below, all aglow.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a mini beer truck, and eight tiny rein-beer.

With a jolly old driver, so lively and slick,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Stout! Now, Porter! Now, Pilsner and Wheat!

On, Lager! On, Bitter! On, Ale and Malt Sweet!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!

Now brew away! Brew away! Brew away all!"

His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like cherries, his nose like a berry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up in a cheer,

And the beard of his chin was as white as a beer.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,

And filled all the growlers; then turned with a flask,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the pop of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight

"Happy Ale Fest to all, and to all a good flight!"