Jolly old Saint Nicholas,
lean your ear this way!
Don't you tell a single soul
what I'm going to say.
Christmas Eve is coming soon,
now, you dear old man;
Whisper what you'll bring to me,
tell me if you can.

When the clock is striking twelve,
when I'm fast asleep;
Down the chimney, broad and black, with your pack you'll creep.
All the stockings you will find
hanging in a row.
Mine will be the shortest one,
you'll be sure to know.

Bobby wants a pair of skates,
Suzy wants a sled,
Nellie wants a picture book,
yellow, blue, and red.
Now I think I'll leave to you
what to give the rest.
Choose for me, dear Santa Claus;
you will know the best.