With apologies to Joseph Mohr, I present Winternight as written by someone recounting some of the events of the waning years of the Third Age.

Silent night. Winternight.
Gone the calm, come the fright.
Run, young virgin, father, and horse.
Let not fever take its course
Trudge to the Winespring Inn.
Trudge to the Winespring Inn.

Silent night. Winternight.
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glorious stories of Manetheren.
Gone two girls and five good men.
Flee for your life; don’t cease!
Flee for your life; don’t cease!

Silent night, Winternight.
Lews reborn, eyes abright.
Radiant webs from thy affixed Lace
Come with Dawn, a power base
Gitara, dead at thy birth!
Gitara, dead at thy birth!