The Old Walking Song From chapter 1: A Long Expected Party This poem appears in the Lord of the Rings four times. Because it is different each time, I have stuck the verses together for convenience. 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/weary feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say. The Road goes ever on and on Out from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, Let others follw it who can! Let them a journey new begin, But I at last with weary feet Will turn towards the lighted inn, My evening-rest and sleep to meet. Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate; And though I oft have passed them by, A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun. The Verse of the Ring From chapter 2: The Shadow of the Past This verse is recited when Gandalf tells Frodo of he origin of The One Ring, after reading the inscription on the One Ring revealed after the Ring is cast into the fire. 'I cannot read the fiery letters,' said Frodo in a quavering voice.     'No,' said Gandalf, 'but I can. The letters are Elvish, of an ancient mode, but the language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here. But this in the Common Tongue is what is said, close enough: One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. It is only two lines of a verse long known in Elven-lore: Three Rings for the 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. A Walking Song From chapter 3: Three is Company This poem is sung by Frodo, Sam, and Pippin, as they set off for Buckland. Bilbo Baggins had made the words, to a tune that was as old as the hills, and taught it to Frodo: 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 courner 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 ell,      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! Elbereth Gilthoniel From chapter 3: Three is Company These words are sung by the Elves as the hobbits hear them approaching. 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. Drinking Song From chapter 4: A Short Cut to Mushrooms This is sung by the hobbits as the rest on their way to Buckland. Frodo propped his back against the tree-trunk, and closed his eyes. Sam and Pippin sat near, and they began to hum, and then to sing softly: Ho! Ho! Ho! to the bottle I go To heal my heart and drown my woe. Rain my fall and wind may blow, And many miles be still to go, But under a tall tree I will lie, And let the clouds go sailing by. Bath Song: From chapter 5: The Conspiracy Unmasked The hobbits sing this shortly after arriving at Frodo's new house in Buckland. The travellers hung up their cloaks, and piled their packs on the floor. Merry led them down the passage and threw open a door at the far end. Firelight came out, and a puff of steam.    ‘A bath!’ cried Pippin. ‘O blessed Meriadoc!’    ‘Which order shall we go in?’ said Frodo. ‘Eldest first, or quickest first? You’ll be last either way, Master Peregrin.’    ‘Trust me to arrange things better than that!’ said Merry. ‘We can’t begin life at Crickhollow with a quarrel over baths. In that room there are three tubs, and a copper full of boiling water. There are also towels, mats and soap. Get inside, and be quick!’    Merry and Fatty went into the kitchen on the other side of the passage, and busied themselves with the final preparations for a late supper. Snatches of competing songs came from the bathroom mixed with the sound of splashing and wallowing. The voice of Pippin was suddenly lifted up above the others in one of Bilbo’s favourite bath-songs. Sing hey! For the bath at 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 my feet! Farewell Song of Merry and Pippin From chapter 5: The Conspiracy Unmasked After dinner at Frodo's new house in Buckland, it is decided that the Merry, Pippin, and Sam will accompany Frodo on his journey to Rivendell. 'Three cheers for Captain Frodo and company!' they shouted; and they danced round him. Merry and Pippin began a song, which they had apparently got ready for the occasion.    It was made on the model of the dwarf-song that started Bilbo on his adventure long ago, and went to the same tune: 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! ********Song in the Woods From chapter 6: The Old Forest As the four Hobbits walk through the Old Forest, shortly after leaving Buckland, Frodo sings this song to raise the spirits of his friends. Now stronger than ever they felt again the ill will of the wood pressing on them. So silent was it that the fall of their ponies’ hoofs, rustling on dead leaves and occasionally stumbling on hidden roots, seemed to thud in their ears. Frodo tried to sing a song to encourage them, but his voice sank to a murmur. O! Wanderers in the shadowed land despair not! For though dark they stand, all woods there be must end at last, and see the open sun go past: the setting sun, the rising sun, the day's end, or the day begun. For east or west all woods must fail... Tom Bombadil Song (1) From chapter 6: The Old Forest When the hobbits get in trouble in the woods, Tom Bombadil comes to their aid: Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo! Ring a dong! hop along! fal 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 the 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 brining. Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing? Tom Bombadil Song (2) From chapter 6: The Old Forest Having rescued the Hobbits, Tom Bombadil tells them to follow him to his house. Hop along, my little friends, up the Withywindle! Tom's 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! Tom Bombadil Song (3) From chapter 6: The Old Forest When the Hobbits reach the house of Tom Bombadil, they are greeted with song: 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, lilies on the water: Old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter! Fair Lady Goldberry From chapter 7: In The House of Tom Bombadil When Frodo sees the Lady Goldberry, Tom Bombadil's wife, he is overcome by her beauty: O slender as a willow-wand! O clearer than 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! Tom Bombadil Song (4) From chapter 7: In The House of Tom Bombadil While Bombadil's house, they often hear this song: Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow; Bright blue his jack its, and his boots are yellow. Tom Bombadil Song (5) From chapter 7: In The House of Tom Bombadil When the hobbits ask Tom Bombadil how it was that he came to save them when they were in trouble, he answers: I had an errand there: gathering water-lilies, green leaves and lilies white to please my pretty lady, the last ere the year's end to keep them from the winter, to flower by her pretty feet till the snows are melted. Each year at summer's end I go to find them for her, in a wide pool, deep and clear, far down Withywindle; there they open first in spring and there they linger latest. By that pool long ago I found the River-daughter, fair young Goldberry sitting in the rushes. Sweet was her singing then, and her heart was beating! And that proved well for you - for now I shall . . . no longer go down deep again along the forest-water, not while the year is old. Nor shall I be passing Old Man Willow's house this side of spring-time, not till the merry spring, when the River-duaghter dances down the withy-path to bathe in the water. Tom Bombadil Song (6) From chapter 8: Fog on the Barrow-Downs Tom Bombadil helps the hobbits once again: 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 ther master: His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster. Get out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight! Shrivel like the cold 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 tads! 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! Tom Bombadil Song (7) From chapter 8: Fog on the Barrow-Downs After helping the Hobbits out of the barrows, Tom calls them to follow him, as he runs down the hills: Hey! now! Come hoy now! Whither do you wander? Up, down, near or far, here, there or yonder? Sharp-ears, Wise-nose, Swish-tail and Bumpkin, White-socks my little lad, and old Fatty Lumpkin! Tom Bombadil Song (8) From chapter 8: Fog on the Barrow-Downs Tom Bombadil tells the Hobbits to continue on to Bree, and when the Hobbits beg for him to come with them, he laughs, and sings: Tom's country ends here: he will not pass the borders. Tom has his house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting! There is an Inn, a Merry old Inn From chapter 9: At the Sign of the Prancing Pony: Having reached Bree, the four Hobbits settle comfortably into the inn, and talk much with the other travellers and Bree folk. When Frodo overhears Pippin revealing the family history of the Baggins to all, he jumps onto a table, and thanks the Bree folk for the kindness. Everyone in the room was now looking at him. 'A song!' shouted one of the hobbits. 'A song! A song!' shouted all the others. 'Come on now, master, sing us something that we 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. 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 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 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! * Elves (and Hobbits) always refer to the Sun as She. The Riddle of Strider From chapter 10: Strider: The innkeeper, Barliman, gives Frodo a letter that Gandalf left there for him, containing the following poem: 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. The Fall of Gil Galad From chapter 11: A Knife in the Dark: After following Strider into the wild for some time, the hobbits come to a strange path, lined with huge boulders, and ask Strider about it. 'This path was made to serve the forts along the walls. But long before, in the first days of the North Kingdom, they built a great watch-tower on Weathertop, Amon Sul they called it. It was burned and broken, and nothing remains of it now but a tumbled ring, like a rough crown on the old hill's head. Yet once it was tall and fair. It is told that Elendil stood there watching for the coming of Gil-galad out of the West, in the days of the Last Alliance.'     The hobbits gazed at Strider. It seemed that he was learned in old lore, as well as in the ways of the wild. 'Who was Gil-galad?' asked Merry; but Strider did not answer, and seemed to be lost in thought.     Suddenly a low voice murmured: Gil-galad was an Elven-king. Of him the harpers sadly sing: the last whose realm was fair 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. The Song of Beren and Luthien From chapter 11: A Knife in the Dark: As the Nazgul close in on Strider and the Hobbits, the Hobbits beg Strider for a story to raise their spirits. 'Then tell us some other tale of the old days,' begged Sam; 'a tale about the Elves before the fading time. I would dearly like to hear more about Elves; the dark seems to press round so close.'     'I will tell you the tale of Tinúviel,' said Strider, 'in brief – for it is a long tale of which the end is not known; and there are none now, except Elrond, that remember it aright as it was told of old. It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all the tales of Middle-earth, and yet it may lift up your hearts.' He was silent for some time, and then he began not to speak but to chant softly: 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 shadow shimmering. Tinúviel 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 wander flowers of gold Upon her mantle and her sleeves, And 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 tightly 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 hidden hollows quavering. Now withered 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. Tinúviel! Tinúviel! 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 Tinúviel 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. Tinúviel 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. Sam's Rhyme of the Troll From chapter 11: Flight to the Ford: After discovering Bilbo's old stone trolls, the Hobbits ask Sam for a song. 'Come on, Sam!' said Merry. 'There's more stored in your head than you let on about.'     'I don't know about that,' said Sam. 'But how would this suit? It ain't what I call proper poetry, if you understand me: just a bit of nonsense. But these old images here brought it to my mind.' Standing up, with his hands behind his back, as if he was at school, he began to sing to an old tune. 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 Troll: 'Pray, what is yon? For it looks like the shin o' my nuncle Tim, As should be a-lyin' in graveyard. Caveyard! Paveyard! This many a year has Tim been gone, And I thought he were lyin' in graveyard.' 'My lad,' said 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' fresh 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 he boned from its owner. Doner! Boner! Troll's old seat is still the same, And the bone he boned from its owner! ‘Where did you come by that, Sam?' asked Pippin. 'I've never heard those words before.'     Sam muttered something inaudible. 'It's out of his own head, of course,' said Frodo. 'I am learning a lot about Sam Gamgee on this journey. First he was a conspirator, now he's a jester. He'll end up by becoming a wizard - or a warrior!'     'I hope not,' said Sam. 'I don't want to be neither!'