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• Poem 1
• Poem 2
• Poem 3
• Poem 4
• Poem 5
• Poem 6
• Poem 7
• Poem 8
• Poem 9 [2, 3, 4, 5]
• Poem 10
• Poem 11
• Poem 12
• Poem 13

• Poem 14
• Poem 15
• Poem 16
• Poem 17
• Poem 18
• Poem 19
• Poem 20
• Poem 21
• Poem 22
• Poem 23
• Poem 24
• Poem 25
• Poem 26
• Poem 27

-Rivendell-----------------

Poem 2 [Back To Top]

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 joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
-------- And whither then? I cannot say.

Poem 3 [Back To Top]

Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
-------- Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
-------- Let them pass! Let them pass!
-------- Hill and water under sky,
-------- Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
-------- Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,
-------- Let them go! Let them go!
-------- Sand and stone and pool and dell,
-------- Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
-------- Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
-------- Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
-------- Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
-------- And then to bed! And then to bed!

Poem 4 [Back To Top]

Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
-------- O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O Light to us that wander here
-------- Amid the world of woven trees!

Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
-------- Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
-------- In a far land beyond the Sea.

O stars that in the Sunless Year
-------- With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
-------- We see your silver blossom blown!

O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
-------- We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
-------- Thy starlight on the Western Seas.

Poem 6 [Back To Top]

Sing hey! For the bath at the close of day
that washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!

O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.

O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.

O! Water is fair that leaps on high
In a fountain white beneath the sky;
But never did fountain sound so sweet
As splashing Hot Water with thy feet!

Poem 7 [Back To Top]

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!

Poem 9 [Back To Top]

-Tom Bombadil's Poems

- Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo!
- Ring a dong! Hop along! Fall lal the willow!
- Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!

- Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! My darling!
- Light goes the weather wind and the feathered starling.
- Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight,
- Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight,
- There my pretty lady is, River-woman’s daughter,
- Slender as a willow-wand, clearer than the water.
- Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies bringing
- Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?
- Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! And merry-o,
- Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!
- Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!
- Tom’s in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.
- Tom’s going home again water-lilies bringing.
- Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?

- Hop along, my little friends, up the Withywindle!
- going on ahead candles for to kindle.
- Down west sinks the Sun: soon you will be groping.
- When the night-shadows fall, then the door will open,
- Out of the window-panes light will twinkle yellow.
- Fear no alder black! Heed no hoary willow!
- Fear neither root nor bough! Tom goes on before you.
- Hey now! Merry dol! We’ll be waiting for you!

- Hey! Come derry dol! Hop along, my hearties!
- Hobbits! Ponies all! We are fond of parties.
- Now let the fun begin! Let us sing together!

- 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, lillies on the water:
- Old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter!

- O slender as a willow-wand! O clearer than the clear water!
- O reed by the living pool! Fair River-daughter!
- O spring-time and summer-time, and spring again after!
- O wind on the waterfall, and the leaves’ laughter!

- Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;
- Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.

-Tom's Poems #3[Back To Top]

- 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!

- Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow,
- Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.
- None has ever caught him yet, for Tom, he is the master:
- His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster.

-Tom's Poems #4[Back To Top]

- Get out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight!
- Shrivel like the old mist, like the winds go wailing,
- Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!
- Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
- Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,
- Where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.

- Wake now my merry lads! Wake and hear me calling!
- Warm now be heart and limb! The cold stone is fallen;
- Dark door is standing wide; dead hand is broken.
- Night under Night is flown, and the gate is open!

Poem 11 [Back To Top]

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 runs 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 horned 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 Sunday 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 drownded his wits,
-------- and the Sun’ll be rising soon!’

So the cat on his 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 pong 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!

Poem 12 [Back To Top]

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.

Poem 13 [Back To Top]

Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and 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.

Poem 14 [Back To Top]

The leaves were long, the grass was green,
-------- The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
-------- Of stars in shadows shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
-------- To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
-------- And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,
-------- And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
-------- He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock leaves
-------- And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
-------- And in her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
-------- That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
-------- And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
-------- She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
-------- In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound
-------- Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
-------- In hiddenhollows quavering.
Now whither lay the hemlock sheaves,
-------- And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
-------- In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
-------- Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
-------- In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
-------- As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
-------- A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed she came again,
-------- And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
-------- And melting water bubbling
He saw the elven-flowers spring
-------- About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
-------- Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
-------- Tinuviel! Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
-------- And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
-------- His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinuviel
-------- That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes
-------- Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
-------- He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair,
-------- Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
-------- And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore,
-------- O’er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
-------- And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
-------- And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
-------- In the forest singing sorrowless.

Poem 15 [Back To Top]

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
-------- For many a year he had gnawed it near,
---------------- For meat was hard to come by.
------------------------ Done by! Gum by!
-------- In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
---------------- And meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on.
Said he to the Troll: ‘Pray, what is yon?
-------- For it looks like the shin o’ my nuncle Tim,
---------------- As should be a-lyin’ in the graveyard.
------------------------ Caveyard! Paveyard!
-------- This many a year has Tim been gone,
------------------------ And I thought he were lyin’ in the graveyard.’

‘My lad,’ said the Troll, ‘this bone I stole.
But what be bones that lie in a hole?
-------- Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o’ lead,
---------------- Afore I found his shinbone.
------------------------ Tinbone! Thinbone!
-------- He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
---------------- For he don’t need his shinbone.’

Said Tom: ‘I don’t see why the likes o’ thee
Without axin’ leave should go makin’ free
-------- With the shank or the shin o’ my father’s kin;
---------------- So hand the old bone over!
------------------------ Rover! Trover!
-------- Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
---------------- So hand the old bone over!’

‘For a couple o’ pins,’ says Troll, and grins, ‘I’ll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins. -------- A bit o’ meat will go down sweet! ---------------- I’ll try my teeth on thee now. ------------------------ Hee now! See now! -------- I’m tired o’ gnawing old bones and skins; ---------------- I’ve a mind to dine on thee now.’ But just as he thought his dinner was caught, He found his hands had hold of naught. -------- Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind ---------------- And gave him the boot to larn him. ------------------------ Warn him! Darn him! -------- A bump o’ the boot on the seat, Tom thought, ---------------- Would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
-------- As well set your boot to the mountain’s root,
---------------- For the seat of a troll don’t feel it.
------------------------ Peel it! Heal it!
-------- Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan,
---------------- And he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom’s leg is game, since home he came,
And his bootless foot is lasting lame;
-------- But Troll don’t care, and he’s still there
---------------- With the bone that he boned from its owner.
------------------------ Doner! Boner!
-------- Troll’s old seat is still the same,
---------------- And the bone he boned from its owner!

Poem 16 [Back To Top]

Earendil was a Mariner
-------- that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber-felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.

In panoply of ancient kings,
in chained rings he armoured him;
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him;
his bow was made of dragon-horn,
his arrows shorn of ebony,
of silver was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.

Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught,
and passed, and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought.

The winds of wrath came driving him,
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless,
unheralded he homeward sped.

There flying Elwing came to him,
and flame was in the darkness lit;
more bright than light of diamond
the fire upon her carcanet.
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow; and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose,
a wind of power in Tarmenel;
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and long-forsaken seas distressed:
from east to west he passed away.

Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o’er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began,
until he heard on strands of pearl
where ends the world the music long,
where ever-foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan.
He saw the mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor, and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas.
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last,
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air, where pale as glass
beneath the hill of Ilmarin
a-glimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored in the shadowmere.

He tarried there from errantry,
the melodies they taught to him,
and sages old him marvels told,
and harps of gold they brought to him.
They clothed him then in elven-white,
and seven lights before him sent,
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went.
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years,
and endless reigns the Elder King
in Ilmarin on mountain sheer;
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk of Men and Elven-kin,
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein.

A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elven-glass
with shining prow; no shaven oar
nor sail she bore on silver mast:
the Silmaril as lantern light
and banner light with living flame
to gleam thereon by Elbereth
herself was set, who thither came
and wings immortal made for him,
and laid on him undying doom,
to sail the shoreless skies and come
behind the Sun and light of Moon.

From Evereven’s lofty hills
where softly silver fountains fall
his wings him bore, a wandering light,
beyond the mighty Mountain Wall
from World’s End then he turned away,
and yearned again to find afar
his home through shadows journeying,
and burning as an island star
on high above the mists he came,
a distant flame before the Sun,
a wonder ere the waking dawn
where grey the Norland waters run.

And over Middle-earth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elven-maids
in Elder-Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
till Moon should fade, an orbed star
to pass, and tarry never more
on Hither Shores where mortals are;
for ever still a herald on
an errand that should never rest
to bear his shining lamp afar,
the Flammifer of Westernesse.

Poem 18 [Back To Top]

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.

Poem 21 [Back To Top]

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

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
-------- in autums that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
-------- and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
-------- of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
-------- that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
-------- that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
-------- there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and theink
-------- of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
-------- that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
-------- of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
-------- And voices at the door.

Poem 22 [Back To Top]

The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone
When Durin woke and walked alone.
He named the nameless hills and dells;
He drank from yet untasted wells;
He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadow of his head.

The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin’s Day.

A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.

There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes’ mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.

Unwearied then were Durin’s folk;
Beneath the mountains music woke:
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.

The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge’s fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:
The darkness dwells in Durin’s halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dum.
But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.

Poem 23 [Back To Top]

An Elven-maid there was of old,
-------- A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
-------- Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
-------- A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
-------- In Lorien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
-------- And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went at last
-------- As light of Linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
-------- By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
-------- Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,
-------- In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
-------- And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey
-------- Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
-------- Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands
-------- Arse, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
-------- Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
-------- The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
-------- Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
-------- Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
-------- Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,
-------- A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
-------- In fair Lothlorien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,
-------- As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
-------- As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,
-------- The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him tall and fair
-------- Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,
-------- And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
-------- Of Amroth evermore.

Poem 24 [Back To Top]

When evening in the Shire was grey
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;
before the dawn he went away
on journey long without a word.

From Wilderland to Western shore,
from northern waste, to southern hill,
through dragon lair and hidden door
and darkling woods he walked at will.

With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,
with mortal and immortal folk,
with bird on bough and beast in den,
in their own secret tongue he spoke.

A deadly sword, a healing hand,
a back that bent beneath its load;
a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,
a weary pilgrim on the road.

A lord of wisdom throned he sat,
swift in anger, quick to laugh;
an old man in a battered hat
who leaned upon a thorny staff.

He stood upon the bridge alone
and Fire and shadow both defied;
his staff was broken on the stone,
in Khazad-dum his wisdom died.

Poem 27 [Back To Top]

Ai! Laurie lantar lassi surinen,
Yeni unotime ve ramar aldaron!
Yeni ve linte yuldar avanier
mi oromardi lisse-miruvorea
Andune pella, Varda tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar I eleni
omaryo airetari-lirinen.

Si man i yulma nin enquantuva?

An si Tintalle Varda Oiolosseo
ve fanyar maryat Elentari ortane,
ar ilye tier undulave lumbule,
ar sindanoriello caita mornie
i falmalinnar imbe met, ar hisie
untupa Calaciryo miri oiale.
Si vanwa na, Romello vanwa, Valimar!

Namarie! Nai hiruvalye Valimar.
Nai elye hiruva. Nimarie!