'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the Shire
Not a hobbit was stirring,
Not even a squire
The ring was hid on the mantle with care
In hopes that Gandalf would soon be there

Then what to Frodo's eyes should appear?
A figure on horseback, a dark cavalier
Dressed all in black from his feet to his skull
He knew in a moment
It was a Nazgul

More rapid than eagles
The others they came
They call "To Mordor,"
And they called him by name
Back to the hobbit hole
Frodo soon flew
With Sting in his hand,
And the golden ring too

Through the hole they came
With a step and a hiss
It was dressed in the robes
Of Mordor's abyss
It spoke not a word
And went straight to its work
It filled Frodo's stockings
And turned with a jerk

The Nazgul looked at Frodo
And took a moment to pause
Before removing his hood
It was Santa Claus!
The hobbit, he smiled
What a glorious sight
That Nazgul was Santa on this good Christmas night.

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