Twas the Night Before Finals

(A parody of the classic poem "Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Moore)

by Jason A. Cecil

 

 Twas the night before Finals, when all through the law school,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a 1L in the house;
The outlines were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Understanding soon would be there;

The law students were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of not flunking out danced in their heads;
And roommate in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen ice-crusted snow
Gave the lustre of a tort waiting to happen to objects below,
When, what to my wondering, bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight professors dear,

With a familiar driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Dean Williams as Saint Nick.
More rapid than eagles his professors they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

'Now, KELLEHER! now, BERRYHILL! now, SWISHER and LeBEL!
On, EISEN! on WOLF! on, CASTLEMAN and COGGINS!
To the top of the class! Driven to the edge of the wall!
Now torment away! Torment away! Torment away all!'

As dry leaves that before Hurricane Floyd would fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, and question you till you die,
So up to the moot court room the professors they flew,
With the sleigh full of exams, and Dean Williams too.

And then, in a twinkling, I felt in my teeth
The laughter and guffawing from each little brief.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Dean Williams came with a bound.

He was dressed all in Italian silk, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of exams he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a trespasser just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his voice how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the cloth of his shirt was as white as the snow;

The book of Civil Procedure he held tight in his teeth,
And the exams he clutched by his hand in a sheath;
He had a kind face and a little wicked smile,
That knew we he had you, clueless by a mile

He was droning and ruthless, a right jolly old prof,
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,
And passed out all the exams; 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 sprang away like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
‘HAPPY FINALS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!'
 

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