# Tolkien's Poetry



## Ariana Undomiel (Nov 1, 2002)

I am a growing fan of poetry and have already fallen in love with the various poems that have been written throughout Tolkien's various works. I thought it would be fun to have a poetry thread where each person can post a poem from any of Tolkien's books. Please try not to enter a poem that already has been entered and you don't have to post only one. Here is one of my favorites to begin with.

"I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lorien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lorien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear be ever back across so wide a Sea?"
~Lady Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien


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## Ithrynluin (Nov 1, 2002)

Galadriel's song is my favourite,as you can see from my signature.
Every other poem in LOTR is so fascinating,so marvellous,...contains deep sorrow and perfect joy...and a glimpse of things distant and forgotten which is IMO the best thing about them.

I will post this one - an elvish song about ents:

ENT
When Spring unfolds the beechen leaf, and sap is in the bough;
When light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow;
When stride is long, and breath is deep, and keen the mountain-air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!

ENTWIFE
When Spring is come to garth and field, and corn is in the blade;
When blossom like a shining snow is on the orchard laid;
When shower and Sun upon the Earth with fragrance fill the air,
I'll linger here, and will not come, because my land is fair.

ENT
When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold
Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;
When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!

ENTWIFE
When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown;
When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town;
When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West,
I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!

ENT
When Winter comes, the winter wild that hill and wood shall slay;
When trees shall fall and starless night devour the sunless day;
When wind is in the deadly East, then in the bitter rain
I'll look for thee, and call to thee; I'll come to thee again!

ENTWIFE
When Winter comes, and singing ends; when darkness falls at last;
When broken is the barren bough, and light and labour past;
I'll look for thee, and wait for thee, until we meet again:
Together we will take the road beneath the bitter rain!

BOTH
Together we will take the road that leads into the West,
And far away will find a land where both our hearts may rest.'

I am left breathless by this gorgeous piece of poetry. And even though the Ents' search for the Entwives has been fruitless so far,I do believe that this song/poem points to some truth and provides hope that they will be reunited some day.


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## Maeglin (Nov 1, 2002)

Here is my favorite, the most emotionally deep poem and a poem that shows great caring and respect in my opinion.

Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
"What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?"
"I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor."
"O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are."

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind Flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
"What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve."
"Ask not of me where he doth dwell-so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!"
"O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth."

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
"What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away."
"Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast."
"O Boromir! The Tower of the Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."


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## Manwë Súlimo (Nov 2, 2002)

My favorite poem is a little too long to post here so I will just tell you what it is. My favorite would have to be the Narn-I-Hîn-Húrin. It is so tragic that you have to love it.


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## Ariana Undomiel (Nov 2, 2002)

Thanks to all those who have shared so far. If you can, post what book the poem is from and if it is spoken or sung by a character, post who it is too so we all can know. Here another one that I love but it is quite short.

To Legolas she sent this word:
Legolas Greenleaf long under tree
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the sea!
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.

~Gandalf delivering a message to Legolas from Galadriel
The Two Towers by JRR Tolkien


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## Manwë Súlimo (Nov 2, 2002)

Mine is not said by anyone really. It can be found in the Lays of Beleriand. Another one that I really like is the Lay of Liethien or however it is spelled. I don't have my book with me to look it up and I am too lazy to go get it.


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## Maeglin (Nov 2, 2002)

mine is about Boromir, said by Legolas and Aragorn


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## Ariana Undomiel (Nov 2, 2002)

Ok, neat. Any one else have some more poetry? Here is another one of my favorites as you can see by my signature.

"Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
The day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the moon and east of the sun."
Frodo in the Return of the King ~J.R.R. Tolkien


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## Ariana Undomiel (Nov 2, 2002)

Here is another poem I would like to share.

'Now let the song begin! let us sing together
Of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,
Light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,
Wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,
Reeds by the shady pool, lilies on the water:
Old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter!'
~Goldberry and Tom Bombadil Greeting Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin
The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien


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## Lantarion (Nov 3, 2002)

I adore Tolkien's poetry, and especially _Namarië_. It is beautiful in Quenya, but it is amazing in English as well. Another one that I love is Aragorn's little ditty that Bilbo wrote for him.. Wonderful stuf.. 
Manwë: First of all, a hearty welcome to the forum! And secondly, have you read the _Narn i Hîn Húrin_ in poem-form? I've only read the tales in the Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales; is there a third, lyrical form?


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## aDaHe (Nov 4, 2002)

while i love jrrt poerty i would like to know if you will alllow me to write my own as i am getting rather a good skill at it.

if no that is ok


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## Ariana Undomiel (Nov 4, 2002)

Oh ok. Sure. We could make this a poetry thread where you can post your own poetry or poetry by Tolkien or even CS Lewis since the two had a lot of similar style and interests in their poetry. I might even post a few of my own poems. :0

~Ariana


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## HobbitGirl (Nov 4, 2002)

This one is from The Hobbit when Bilbo saw the Hill in the distance after his journey. It is one of my favorites by Tolkien.

Roads go ever on and on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where sun has never shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever on and on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they have long known.


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## GoldenWood (Nov 4, 2002)

I like the "All that glitters is not gold..." poem from FoTR. I don't have the book handy, so can't post it. 

I also like the Ent and Entwives poem.


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## The Tall Hobbit (Nov 4, 2002)

My favorite Tolkien poem is "The Adventures of Tom Bombadil" from the book _The Adventures of Tom Bombadil_.

Old Tom Bombadil was a merry fellow;
bright blue his jacket was and his boots were yellow,
green were his girdle and his breeches all of leather;
he wore in his tall hat a swan-wing feather.
He lived up under Hill, where the Withywindle
ran from a grassy well down into the dingle.

Old Tom in summertime walked about the meadows
gathering the buttercups, running after shadows,
tickling the bumblebees that buzzed among the flowers,
sitting by the waterside for hours upon hours.

There his beard dangled long down into the water:
up came Goldberry, the River-woman's daughter;
pulled Tom's hanging hair. In he went a-wallowing
under the water-lilies, bubbling and a-swallowing.

'Hey, Tom Bombadil! Whither are you going?'
said fair Goldberry. 'Bubbles you are blowing,
frightening the finny fish and the brown water-rat,
startling the dabchicks, and drowning your feather-hat!'

'You bring it back again, there's a pretty maiden!'
said Tom Bombadil. 'I do not care for wading.
Go down! Sleep again where the pools are shady
far below willow-roots, little water-lady!'

Back to her mother's house in the deepest hollow
swam young Goldberry. But Tom, he would not follow;
on knotted willow-roots he sat in sunny weather,
drying his yellow boots and his draggled feather.

Up woke Willow-man, began upon his singing,
sang Tom fast asleep under branches swinging;
in a crack caught him tight: snick! it closed together,
trapped Tom Bombadil, coat and hat and feather.

'Ha, Tom Bombadil! What be you a-thinking,
peeping inside my tree, watching me a-drinking
deep in my wooden house, tickling me with feather,
dripping wet down my face like a rainy weather?'

'You let me out again, Old Man Willow!
I am stiff lying here; they're no sort of pillow,
your hard crooked roots. Drink your river-water!
Go back to sleep again like the River-daughter!'

Willow-man let him loose when he heard him speaking;
locked fast his wooden house, muttering and creaking,
whispering inside the tree. Out from willow-dingle
Tom went walking on up the Withywindle.
Under the forest-eaves he sat a while a-listening:
on the boughs piping birds were chirruping and whistling.
Butterflies about his head went quivering and winking,
until grey clouds came up, as the sun was sinking.

Then Tom hurried on. Rain began to shiver,
round rings spattering in the running river;
a wind blew, shaken leaves chilly drops were dripping;
into a sheltering hole Old Tom went skipping.

Out came Badger-brock with his snowy forehead
and his dark blinking eyes. In the hill he quarried
with his wife and many sons. By the coat they caught him,
pulled him inside their earth, down their tunnels brought him.

Inside their secret house, there they sat a-mumbling:
'Ho, Tom Bombadil' Where have you come tumbling,
bursting in the front-door? Badger-folk have caught you.
You'll never find it out, the way that we have brought you!'

'Now, old Badger-brock, do you hear me talking?
You show me out at once! I must be a-walking.
Show me to your backdoor under briar-roses;
then clean grimy paws, wipe your earthy noses!
Go back to sleep again on your straw pillow,
like fair Goldberry and Old Man Willow!'

Then all the Badger-folk said: 'We beg your pardon!'
They showed Tom out again to their thorny garden,
went back and hid themselves, a-shivering and a-shaking,
blocked up all their doors, earth together raking.

Rain had passed. The sky was clear, and in the summer-gloaming
Old Tom Bombadil laughed as he came homing,
unlocked his door again, and opened up a shutter.
In the kitchen round the lamp moths began to flutter:
Tom through the window saw waking stars come winking,
and the new slender moon early westward sinking.

Dark came under Hill. Tom, he lit a candle;
upstairs creaking went, turned the door-handle.
'Hoo, Tom Bombadil! Look what night has brought you!
I'm here behind the door. Now at last I've caught you!
You'd forgotten Barrow-wight dwelling in the old mound
up there on hill-top with the ring of stones round.
He's got loose again. Under earth he'll take you.
Poor Tom Bombadil, pale and cold he'll make you!'

'Go out! Shut the door, and never come back after!
Take away gleaming eyes, take your hollow laughter!
Go back to grassy mound, on your stony pillow
lay down your bony head, like Old Man Willow,
like young Goldberry, and Badger-folk in burrow!
Go back to buried gold and forgotten sorrow!'

Out fled Barrow-wight through the window leaping,
through the yard, over wall like a shadow sweeping,
up hill wailing went back to leaning stone-rings,
back under lonely mound, rattling his bone-rings.

Old Tom Bombadil lay upon his pillow
sweeter than Goldberry, quieter than the Willow,
snugger than the Badger-folk or the Barrow-dwellers;
slept like a humming-top, snored like a bellows.

He woke in morning-light, whistled like a starling,
sang, 'Come, derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!'
He clapped on his battered hat, boots, and coat and feather;
opened the window wide to the sunny weather.

Wise old Bombadil, he was a wary fellow;
bright blue his jacket was, and his boots were yellow.
None ever caught old Tom in upland or in dingle,
walking the forest-paths, or by the Withywindle,
or out on the lily-pools in boat upon the water.
But one day Tom, he went and caught the River-daughter,
in green gown, flowing hair, sitting in the rushes,
singing old water-songs to birds upon the bushes.

He caught her, held her fast! Water-rats went scuttering
reeds hissed, herons cried, and her heart was fluttering.
Said Tom Bombadil: 'Here's my pretty maiden!
You shall come home with me! The table is all laden:
yellow cream, honeycomb, white bread and butter;
roses at the window-sill and peeping round the shutter.
You shall come under Hill! Never mind your mother
in her deep weedy pool: there you'll find no lover!'

Old Tom Bombadil had a merry wedding,
crowned all with buttercups, hat and feather shedding;
his bride with forgetmenots and flag-lilies for garland
was robed all in silver-green. He sang like a starling,
hummed like a honey-bee, lilted to the fiddle,
clasping his river-maid round her slender middle.

Lamps gleamed within his house, and white was the bedding;
in the bright honey-moon Badger-folk came treading,
danced down under Hill, and Old Man Willow
tapped, tapped at window-pane, as they slept on the pillow,
on the bank in the reeds River-woman sighing
heard old Barrow-wight in his mound crying.

Old Tom Bombadil heeded not the voices,
taps, knocks, dancing feet, all the nightly noises;
slept till the sun arose, then sang like a starling:
'Hey! Come derry-dol, merry-dol, my darling!'
sitting on the door-step chopping sticks of willow,
while fair Goldberry combed her tresses yellow.


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## Leto (Nov 5, 2002)

"The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow if I can.
Pursuing it with eager feet
Until it meets some larger Way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say." -Bilbo "A long expected party"

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow if I can.
Pursuing it with weary feet
Until it meets some larger Way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say." -Frodo "Three's Company"


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## Leto (Nov 5, 2002)

"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas."

can never forget this song. After I read the Silmarillion, I had the image of Varda, with Manwe, hearing the calls of Frodo and Sam deep in Shelob's lair...the starlight glowing with her light and care...


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## Niniel (Nov 5, 2002)

I like the song for Boromir, that has already been quoted.

And this one:
Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall.
To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell,
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then we cannot tell.
With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our errand sped.
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day!

And this one:
Gil-galad was an Elven-king
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was far and free
between the Mountains and the Sea.
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are.

Pity it's not finished...


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## Anamatar IV (Nov 5, 2002)

Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the Sea!

West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree

Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.

O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!

O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,


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## pohuist (Nov 5, 2002)

I am a big fan of Tolkien's poetry and remember one reading of LOTR when I went through the book only reading poetry and nothing else. My all-time favourite is

"When winter first begins to bite,
and stones crack in frosty night,
when pool are black and trees are bare,
'tis evil in the wild to fare"


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## Leto (Nov 6, 2002)

Led Zeppelin (Robert Plant), uses Tolkien references in several songs. Only one song is blatantly referencing events from LOTR, though even in it there are some things which are questionable. Perhaps the metaphors can be deciphered so that the true extent of their 'Lord of the Rings' reference can be decided on.

The first and easiest song is 'Battle of Evermore'

"Queen of Light took her bow
And then she turned to go,
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom
And walked the night alone.


Oh, dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the morning light.
The dark Lord rides in force tonight
And time will tell us all.


Oh, throw down your plow and hoe,
Rest not to lock your homes.
Side by side we wait the might
Of the darkest of them all.


I hear the horses' thunder
Down in the valley below,
I'm waiting for the angels of Avalon,
Waiting for the eastern glow.


The apples of the valley hold
The seeds of happiness,
The ground is rich from tender care,
Repay, do not forget, no, no.
Oh, dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the morning light.


The apples turn to brown and black,
The tyrant's face is red.


Oh the war is common cry,
Pick up you swords and fly.
The sky is filled with good and bad
That mortals never know.


Oh, well, the night is long
The beads of time pass slow,
Tired eyes on the sunrise,
Waiting for the eastern glow.


The pain of war cannot exceed
The woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall,
The ringwraiths ride in black,
Ride on.


Sing as you raise your bow,
Shoot straighter than before.
No comfort has the fire at night
That lights the face so cold.


Oh dance in the dark of night,
Sing to the mornin' light.
The magic runes are writ in gold
To bring the balance back.
Bring it back.


At last the sun is shining,
The clouds of blue roll by,
With flames from the dragon of darkness
The sunlight blinds his eye."


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## Talimon (Nov 6, 2002)

I love a lot of Tolkiens poetry, but in particular the Elvish bits about longing for the sea. There is something painfully poetic about the Elves whole relationship with the ocean, and what it represents in thier conciousness. Legolas, from RotK:

_'To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voice of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods the bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing. 
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!'_


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## HobbitGirl (Nov 7, 2002)

For all you people who want to post your own poetry, there is a poetry thread in the Prancing Pony. Click here. We would all love to see your poems!


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## Hobbit-GalRosie (Nov 7, 2002)

I actually really liked the song that was a long version of 'Hey diddle-diddle.' It makes a great deal more sense than the one we all say, and it's such a unique idea, to take a well-known nursery rhyme and give it a story like that. It just further proves Tolkien's genius, even though of course it's not as important as the more dramatic poetry.

At the inn called the Prancing Pony in Bree, Frodo, as a visitor from the Shire, is asked to sing a song the guests haven't heard before...
_"For a moment Frodo stood gaping. Then in desperation he began a ridiculous song that Bilbo had been rather fond of (and indeed rather proud of, for he had made up the words himself). It was about an inn; and that is probably why it came into Frodo's mind just then. Here it is in full. Only a few words of it are now, as a rule, remembered."_

The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon 

There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he saws his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.

The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.

They also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.

And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced
and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
'The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'

So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
'It's after three!' he said.

They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While his horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon.

Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.

With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!


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## Confusticated (Nov 7, 2002)

While I love much of the songs in Tolkien's books, two stand out as being my favorites.
Beren's song of Luthien (while their story is not among my favorites) is the most amazing thing that I have heard anyone say about another person.


> Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,
> for ever blest, since here did lie
> and here with lissom limbs did run
> beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,
> ...



My other favorite is Bilbo's song here:


> I sit beside the fire and think
> of all that I have seen,
> of meadow-flowers and butterflies
> in summers that have been;
> ...


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## Athelas (Nov 30, 2002)

*A Call to Arms*

Where now the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk,
and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring,
and the red fire glowing?

To me, this is a stirring call to arms; I loved the first TT trailer where Eomer is arming Theoden, and he recites this. He is recalling the former glory of his people as warriors to rally his heart against the attacks by orc terrorists.


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## Finduilas (Dec 23, 2002)

Here is something I found(I don't know if someone has posted it):
Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clamb for thee,
The bluidy shirt I wrang for thee,
And wilt thou not wauken and turn to me?


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## Bombadillo (Dec 25, 2002)

my favourite is the poem about beren and luthien, and for al you poem lovers, this site has a lot of songs and poems, just written out....
http://tolkien.cro.net/talesong.html


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## Rúmil (Dec 25, 2002)

My favourite poem had been posted already, but here is my second favourite:


> Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising
> I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
> To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking:
> Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!


 and in Elvish:


> A Elbereth Gilthoniel
> o menel palan-diriel,
> le nallon sí di'nguruthos!
> A tiro nin, Fanuilos!


and from the Silmarillion:


> He chanted a song of wizardry,
> Of piercing, opening, of treachery,
> Revealing, uncovering, betraying.
> Then sudden Felagund there swaying,
> ...





But personally, I think the most beautiful passages of Tolkien are in prose:


> Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur’s heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and a ringing of bells.


 and of course:


> In an hour unlooked for by Men this doom befell, on the nine and thirtieth day since the passing of the fleets. Then suddenly fire burst from the Meneltarma, and there came a mighty wind and a tumult of the earth, and the sky reeled, and the hills slid, and Númenor went down into the sea, with all its children and its wives and its maidens and its ladies proud; and all its gardens and its balls and its towers, its tombs and its riches, and its jewels and its webs and its things painted and carven, and its lore: they vanished for ever. And last of all the mounting wave, green and cold and plumed with foam, climbing over the land, took to its bosom Tar-Míriel the Queen, fairer than silver or ivory or pearls. Too late she strove to ascend the steep ways of the Meneltarma to the holy place; for the waters overtook her, and her cry was lost in the roaring of the wind.


 That last passage is the most beautiful thing I ever read.


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## Lantarion (Dec 30, 2002)

Leto, I also adore _A! Elbereth Gilthoniel_. I saw a great little play about the LotR a year or so ago, and when they sang this I almost cried! 
And I agree, Rúmil; it is one of the greatest passages I've ever read. The entire _Akallabêth_, in fact, is absolutely fantastic.


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## Finduilas (Dec 31, 2002)

I love everything I have read about Turin and Numenore but the most beautiful thing I have read is the story of Beren and Luthien.
It is lovely.
I will try to find something concrete but it is most marvelous when it is in a whole.


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## goldmare (Jan 5, 2003)

I love the ring poem (musn't forget that one!):

Three rings for Elven Kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, 
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, 
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

And the call for Tom's help:

Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo!
By water, wood and hill, by the reed and willow,
By fire, sun and moon, harken now and hear us!
Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!

And Boromir's dream:

Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.

And of course:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.


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## Eledhwen (Dec 30, 2009)

*Cat*

I often wonder whether Poem 12 from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, "Cat", is symbolic of Tolkien's life as an Oxford Don who dreams of the battles of Middle-earth. I love it anyway; the way the vowel/diphthong sounds match and amplify the point. It is a super one to read out loud.

CAT

The fat cat on the mat 
may seem to dream 
of nice mice that suffice 
for him, or cream; 
but he free, maybe, 
walks in thought 
unbowed, proud, where loud 
roared and fought 
his kin, lean and slim, 
or deep in den 
in the East feasted on beasts 
and tender men. 
The giant lion with iron 
claw in paw, 
and huge ruthless tooth 
in gory jaw; 
the pard dark-starred, 
fleet upon feet, 
that oft soft from aloft 
leaps on his meat 
where woods loom in gloom-- 
far now they be, 
fierce and free, 
and tamed is he; 
but fat cat on the mat 
kept as a pet, 
he does not forget.


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## inquirer (May 22, 2010)

Hello, I am new and am hoping someone could help me find the title of a Tolkien poem I read years ago in middle school. I remember that it was about a farm girl who wakes up early one morning and goes outside only to see the Elves sailing down the river by her farm on their migration from the mortal world. The Elves find her beautiful and ask her to join them, but she hesitates, and then stays behind. The Elves pass, and then she is left in her mundane world. I don't think it was per se set in Middle Earth, but it could have been. I cannot remember the title or even a single line! Please help, thanks!


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## The Tall Hobbit (May 24, 2010)

inquirer said:


> Hello, I am new and am hoping someone could help me find the title of a Tolkien poem I read years ago in middle school. I remember that it was about a farm girl who wakes up early one morning and goes outside only to see the Elves sailing down the river by her farm on their migration from the mortal world. The Elves find her beautiful and ask her to join them, but she hesitates, and then stays behind. The Elves pass, and then she is left in her mundane world. I don't think it was per se set in Middle Earth, but it could have been. I cannot remember the title or even a single line! Please help, thanks!


 
I believe you are describing "The Last Ship" the final poem in the collection known as _The Adventures of Tom Bombadil_. 

Fíriel looked out at three o'clock:
the grey night was going;
far away a golden cock
clear and shrill was crowing.
The trees were dark, and the dawn pale,
waking birds were cheeping,
a wind moved cool and frail
through dim leaves creeping.
etc.....

AoTB was most recently reprinted in the 2008 edition of _Tales From the Perilous Realm_:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/0547154119/?tag=r-r-20


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## Sulimo (May 11, 2011)

Ohh to try and include all my favorites would not be possible. Perhaps my very favorite is the Lay of Leithian. Which is far too long to post. I also love the Hoard from the The Adventures of Tom Bombadil which is also quite long. My third favorite is actually his rendering of the The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun. I love the way he carries the alliteration over into English, and his use of the Fornrthislag meter is simply remarkable. Here is a sample:

123 'Hjalli, swineherd,
thy heart give us!'
Shrilly shrieked he
at the shining knife.
They bared his breast,
and bitter wailed he;
ere the point pricked him
he piercing cried.

124 Hogni heard him,
to the Huns spake he:
'Noisome the shrieking!
Knives were liever.
If hearts ye wish
here lies a better.
It trembles not. Take it!
Your toil were less.'

125 The heart then cut they 
from Hjall's bosom;
to Gunnar bore it
on golden dish:
'Here lies his heart!
Hogni is ended.'
Loudly laughed he,
lord of Niflungs.

126 'I hapless see here
heart of craven.
Hogni hath not
heart that trembles.
Quivering lies it;
quaked it swifter
beating in baseborn 
breast ignoble.'

127 Loudly laughed he
at life's ending, 
when knife was come 
to Niflung lord.
The heart they cut
from Hogni's bosom;
to Gunnar bore it
on golden dish.

128 'I haughty see here
heart undaunted.
Hogni held it,
heart untrembling.
Unshaken lies it,
so shook it seldom
beating in boldest 
breast of princes.


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## Prince of Cats (May 12, 2011)

I'm also very attracted to the alliterative style of Sir Gawain and The Green Night. I've only read Tolkien's vernacular translation so I'm not sure how much of it was preserved from the original


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## Sulimo (May 13, 2011)

I can tell you like alliteration just from your Tom Bombadil quote. I have never read Sir Gawain in the Green Knight, but I have always wanted to.


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