Twas the night before Hempmas, when all through The A,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a jay.

The stockings were hung by the bong with care,
In hopes that Canna Claus soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of gummies danced in their heads;
And mamma in her onesie, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a flash,
Tore opened the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny hemp deer,

With a jolly old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Hemp.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Indica! Now, Sativa! Now, Hybrid and Haze!
On, Kush! On, Skunk! On, Diesel and Blaze!
To the top of the porch! 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 house top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of CBD, and St. Hemp too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Down the chimney, St. Hemp came with a bound.

He was dressed all in green, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with resin and soot;
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a joint 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 bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
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,
Filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

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,
“Happy Hempmas to all, and to all a good night!”