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Thread: Tolkien's Poetry, Serialized

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The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late *

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.
Quote:
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.

The 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 row 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.

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 a 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.

Continued in.... "The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

*This comic poem also appears unnamed, in the FOTR, Book I, Chapter 9 entitled 'At the Sign of the Prancing Pony', where it is sung by one Mr. Underhill, with much accolade the first time around, but with some consternation and breakage of crockery the second.

[Edited on 29/6/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 30/6/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 2/7/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 10/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
Read Smilie
Love it, love it! More coming up then?
Read Smilie
The Sea Bell

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.
Quote:
I walked by the sea, and there came to me,
as a star-beam on the wet sand,
a white shell like a sea-bell;
trembling it lay in my wet hand.
In my fingers shaken I heard waken
a ding within, by a harbour bar
a bouy swinging, a call ringing
over endless seas, faint now and far.

Then I saw a boat silently
float on the night-postThreadIDe, empty and grey.
'It is later than late! Why do we wait?'
I leapt in and cried: 'Bear me away!'

It bore me away, wetted with spray,
wrapped in a mist, wound in a sleep,
to a forgotten strand in a strange land.
In the twilight beyond the deep
I heard a sea-bell swing in the swell,
dinging, dinging, and the breakers roar
on the hidden teeth of a perilous reef;
and at last I came to a long shore.
White it glimmered, and the sea simmered
with star-mirrors in a silver net;
cliffs of stone pale as a ruel-bone
in the moon-foam were gleaning wet.
Glittering sand slid through my hand,
dust of pearl and jewel-grist,
trumpets of opal, roses of coral,
flutes of green and amethyst.

But under cliff-eves there were glooming caves,
weed-curtained, dark and grey;
a cold air stirred in my hair,
and the light waned, as I hurried away.

Down from a hill ran a green rill;
its water I drank to my heart's ease.
Up its fountain-stair to a country fair
of ever-eve I came, far from the seas,
climbing into meadows of fluttering shadows:
flowers lay there like fallen stars,
and on a blue pool, glass and cool,
like floating moons the nenuphars.
Alders were sleeping, and willows weeping
by a slow river of rippling weeds;
gladdon-swords guarded the fords,
and green spears, and arrow-reeds.

There was echo of song all the evening long
down in the valley; many a thing
running to and fro; hares white as snow,
voles out of holes; moths on the wing
with lantern-eyes; in quiet surprise
brocks were staring out of dark doors.
I heard dancing there, music in the air,
feet going quick on the green floors.
But wherever I came it was ever the same:
the feet fled, and all was still;
never a greeting, only the fleeting
pipes, voices, horns on the hill.

Of river-leaves and the rush-sheaves
I made me a mantle of jewel-green,
a tall wand to hold, and a flag of gold;
my eyes shone like the star-sheen.
With flowers crowned I stood on a mound,
and shrill as a call at cock-crow
proudly I cried: 'Why do you hide?
Why do none speak, wherever I go?
Here now I stand, king of this land,
with gladdon-sword and reed-mace.
Answer my call! Come forth all!
Speak to me words! Show me a face!'

Black came a cloud as a night-shroud.
Like a dark mole groping I went,
to the ground falling, on my hands crawling
with eyes blind and my back bent.
I crept to a wood: silent it stood
in its dead leaves; bare were its boughs.
There must I sit, wandering in wit,
while owls snored in their hollow house.
For a year and a day there must I stay:
beetles were tapping in the rotten trees,
spiders were weaving, in the mould heaving
puffballs loomed about my knees.

At last there came light in my long night,
and I saw my hair hanging grey.
'Bent though I be, I must find the sea!
I have lost myself, and I know not the way,
but let me be gone!' Then I stumbled on;
like a hunting bat shadow was over me;
in my ears dinned a withering wind,
and with ragged briars I tried to cover me.
My hands were torn and my knees worn,
and years were heavy upon my back,
when the rain in my face took a salt taste,
and I smelled the smell of sea-wrack.

Birds came sailing, mewing, wailing;
I heard voices in cold caves,
seals barking, and rocks snarling,
and spout-holes the gulping of waves.

Winter came fast; into a mist I passed,
to land's end my years I bore;
snow was in the air, ice in my hair,
darkness was lying on the last shore.

Continued in.... "The Sea Bell" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 7/7/2002 by Grondmaster]

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[Edited on 10/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
Quote:
Big Laugh Smilie I don't have to rhyme in every line just every other line....
Many of Tolkien's poems in his book The Adventures of Tom Bombadil have the second (rhyming) lines indented, which leads me to believe they were originally meant to be all on one line and the book's pages were just too narrow. As I was typing these in, I found the forum accepts neither indentations nor multiple spaces, so I went without and just wondered if I should maybe make them "one liners".

What do all you poets and readers think?
That one somehow reminds me of Edgar Allan Poe. Weird. Cool Smilie
Today I finished The Sea Bell. Smile Smilie

Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum sometime in the near future.
Princess Mee

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.

Quote:
Little Princess Mee
Lovely was she
As in elven-song is told:
She had pearls in hair
All threaded fair;
Of gossamer shot with gold
Was her kerchief made,
And of silver braid
Of stars about her throat.
Of moth-web light
All moonlit-white
She wore a woven coat,
And round her kirtle
Was bound a girdle
Sewn with diamond dew.

She walked by day
Under mantle grey
And hood of clouded blue;
But she went by night
All glittering bright
Under the starlit sky,
And her slippers frail
Of fishes' mail
Flashed as she went by
To her dancing-pool,
And on mirror cool
Of windless water played.
As a mist of light
In whirling flight
A glint like glass she made
Wherever her feet
Of silver fleet
Flicked the dancing-floor.

She looked on high
To the roofless sky,
And she looked to the shadowy shore
Then round she went,
And her eyes she bent
And saw beneath her go
A Princess Shee
As fair as Mee:
They were dancing toe to toe!

Shee was as light
As Mee, and as bright;
But Shee was, strange to tell,
Hanging down
With starry crown
Into a bottomless well!
Her gleaming eyes
In great surprise
Looked up to the eyes of Mee:
A marvellous thing,
Head-down to swing
Above a starry sea!

Continued in.... "Princess Mee " available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
At the bottom of this poem in the book, is an illustration of a fairy princess dancing, as it were atop a mirror of water.

(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 31/7/2002 by Grondmaster]

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[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
I suppose it was the general feeling of melancholy and gloominess, yes, tuesday. I like Poe a lot though. Big Smile Smilie
I finished Princess Mee today. Smile Smilie

Should I consider doing The Hoard next, or has interest in reading these poems flagged?
We're reading, we're reading! Honest!

Read Smilie Read Smilie Read Smilie See?

Please keep going G. Haven't been lurking around PT lately, but hopefully I'll be unemployed again next month & will be able to spend more time on this thread. Am getting sick and tired of working. Sad Smilie
The Hoard

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.

Quote:
When the moon was new and the sun young
of silver and gold the gods sung:
in green the grass they silver spilled,
and the white waters they with gold filled.
Ere the pit was dug or Hell yawned,
ere dwarf was bred or dragon spawned,
there were Elves of old, and strong spells
under green hills in hollow dells
they sang as they wrought many fair things,
and bright crowns of the Elf-Kings.
But their doom fell, and their song waned,
by iron hewn and by steel chained.
Greed that sang not, nor with mouth smiled,
in dark holes their wealth piled,
graven silver and carven gold:
over Elvenhome the shadow rolled.

There was an old dwarf in a dark cave,
to silver and gold his fingers clave;
with hammer and tongs and anvil-stone
he worked his hands to the hard bone,
and coins he made, and strings of rings,
and thought to buy the power of kings.
But his eyes grew dim and his ears dull
and the skin yellow on his old skull;
through his bony claw with a pale sheen
the stone jewels slipped unseen.
No feet he heard, though the earth quaked,
when the young dragon his thirst slaked,
and the stream smoked at his dark door.
The flames hissed on the dank floor.
and he died alone in the red fire;
his bones were ashes in the hot mire.

There was an old dragon under grey stone;
his red eyes blinked as he lay alone.
His joy was dead and his youth spent,
he was knobbed and wrinkled, and his limbs bent
in the long years to his gold chained;
in his heart's furnace the fire waned.
To his belly's slime gems stuck thick,
silver and gold he would snuff and lick:
he knew the place of the least ring
beneath the shadow of his black wing.
Of thieves he thought on his hard bed.
and dreamed that on their flesh he fed,
their bones crushed, and their blood drank:
his ears drooped and his breath sank.
Mail-rings rang. He heard them not.
A voice echoed in his deep grot:
a young warrior with a bright sword
called him forth to defend his hoard.
His teeth were knives, and of horn his hide,
but iron tore him, and his flame died.

Continued in.... "The Hoard" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 10/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 12/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

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[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
You shouldn't thank me, I'm only the middle man; thank Professor Tolkien instead. Smile Smilie
I added more lines to The Hoard today.

Next time will finish it. Smile Smilie
Loverly! Something to read again! Read Smilie
Read Smilie Read Smilie read:

And the moral of the story is: Spend it all.

Good poem though G. I've forwarded it to my mom. Thumbs Up Smilie
I finished The Hoard today. Cool Smilie

Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum sometime in the near future.

Ungoliant: Sounds like both you and Taz have copied a poem before it was complete.
Should I refrain from adding the Read Smilie icon until a poem is complete so people who don't read the accompanying comment can get an idea of when it is complete. Maybe I should also remove all the intermediate 'edited on's when it is finished. Got any ideas?


[Edited on 16/8/2002 by Grondmaster]
Don't worry G, I knew that it was incomplete. I just liked it as it was.

Don't think you need to do anything to warn readers G. After the first couple of poems, I'm sure most would have learnt to scrool down to check see if the poem is complete. Your method is fine the way it is.

Read Smilie Great poem though. Hmm. I didn't quite like the ending though - I think it would have been better without the last paragraph? stanza? (or whatever it is that poems use to organise themselves). As you can see, I'm no poet, and have no artistic/romantic bone in my body.
Quote:
As you can see, I ... have no artistic/romantic bone in my body.
That, I believe, is because arachnids have an external skeleton. Very Big Grin Smilie

Okay, I won't change my method of presentation. Smile Smilie
The Mewlips

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.
Quote:
The shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.

You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.

Beside the rotting river-strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.

Over the Merlock Mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool's borders without wind or postThreadIDe,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.

The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.

Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish-flap-flip,
As they sidle to the door.

Continued in.... "The Mewlips" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 26/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 28/8/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
I finished The Mewlips today.

Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum sometime in the near future. Smile Smilie
Read Smilie
Super Scared Smilie

Ooo, that's creepy G. *shudder* (not the poetry, I meant the subject matter).

Is it about some man-eating plant? But then they live without moon or sunlight, so they can't be plants. What on earth are Mewlips anyway?
Yeah, or perhaps some kind of quicksand thingie? Super Scared Smilie
Mewlips are indigenous to bogs, marshes, and swamps. They are partial to Humans and Elves, but wouldn't say no to a second helping of Dwarf or Hobbit. Very Evil Smilie
Fastitocalon

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.
Quote:
Look, there is Fastitocalon!
An island good to land upon,
Although 'tis rather bare.
Come, leave the sea! And let us run,
Or dance, or lie down in the sun!
See, gulls are sitting there!
Beware!
Gulls do not sink.
There they may sit, or strut and prink:
Their part it is to tip the wink,
If anyone should dare
Upon that isle to settle,
Or only for a while to get
Relief from sickness or the wet,
Or maybe boil a kettle.

Ah! foolish folk, who land on HIM,
And little fires proceed to trim
And hope perhaps for tea!
It may be that His shell is thick,
He seems to sleep; but He is quick,
And floats now in the sea
With guile;
And when He hears their tapping feet,
Or faintly feels the sudden heat,
With a smile
HE dives,
And promptly turning upside-down
He tips them off, and deep they drown,
And lose their silly lives
To their surprise.

Continued in.... "Fastitocalon" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 6/9/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 8/9/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
I finished the poem Fastitocalon today.


Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum sometime in the near future. Smile Smilie
I liked Fastitocalon. I Love You Smilie
Read Smilie Read Smilie Read Smilie

Bravo Grondy! Great poem!

Reminds of of the Mystery of Mary Celeste...maybe that's what happened to her passengers!
Thank you, Professor Tolkien! Tongue Smilie

Read Smilie
Shadow Bride

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.
Quote:

There was a man who dwelt alone,
as day and night went past
he sat as still as carven stone,
and yet no shadow cast.
The white owls pearched upon his head
beneath the winter moon;
they wiped their beaks and thought him dead
under the stars of June.

There came a lady clad in grey
in the twilight shining:
one moment she would stand and stay,
her hair with flowers entwining.
He woke, as had he sprung of stone,
and broke the spell that bound him;
he clasped her fast, both flesh and bone,
and wrapped her shadow round him.

Continued in.... "Shadow Bride" available in The Tolkien Reader. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 25/9/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 27/9/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
I finished the Shadow Bride today. Read Smilie
That one sent shivers up and down my spine Grondy. Thank you for sharing these wonderful poems with those of us that do not have our own copies. I have really enjoyed reading them, as I am sure the others do as well.
You are welcome Mellie. Smile Smilie
Lovely poem indeed. Smile Smilie Read Smilie
Today I have gone back through all the Tolkien poems, both in this thread and in our Tolkien Poetry Section (available from the Main Menu), to remove a few stanzas from each and pointing to the book from which the remainder of the poem can be found. This is to preclude having legal problems with the copyright owners of those poems. Cool Elf Smilie
Do you have anything else for us Grondy?

It is a shame for this to end.

[Edited on 8/10/2002 by MelliotSandybanks]
I'm thinking of lifting some more from the other books, there are a few more in this one that I could do, but feel it would be flouting the law to print all sixteen poems from this book. I think maybe I will do Gimli's In Moria, Khazad-dûm next, Sam really liked that one. Smile Smilie
Gimli's Chant (In Moria, In Khazad-dûm)

by J.R.R. Tolkien Copyright © 1955, 1964 by J.R.R. Tolkien. Copyright © renewed 1982 by Christopher R. Tolkien, Michael H.R. Tolkien, John F.R. Tolkien and Priscilla M.A.R. Tolkien. and taken from Ballantine Books Edition of The Fellowship of the Ring
Quote:
The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet upon 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 Eldar 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.

Continued in.... "Gimli's Chant (In Moria, In Khazad-dûm)" available untitled in The Fellowship of the Ring. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 16/10/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 17/10/2002 by Grondmaster]
Tonight I finished Gimli's Chant (In Moria, In Khazad-dûm). Read Smilie

Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum sometime in the near future. Cool Smilie
Great job you've done Grondy! Thumbs Up Smilie Any more coming up? Orc Going Huh Smilie
I'm working on it Tommie. Happy Elf Smilie
CAT

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.

Quote:
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–

Continued in.... "CAT" available in The Tolkien Reader.
Read Smilie

(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie
Read Smilie

Fantastic, Grondy! Read Smilie Read Smilie
OLIPHAUNT

by JRR Tolkien © JRR Tolkien and taken from The Adventures of Tom Bombadil © George Allen & Unwin Ltd., found in Ninth Edition of The Tolkien Reader © Ballantine Books, Inc.

Quote:
Grey as a mouse,
Big as a house,
Nose like a snake,
I make the earth shake,
As I tramp through the grass;
Trees crack as I pass.
With horns in my mouth
I walk in the South,
Flapping big ears.
Beyond count of years
I stump round and round,
Never lie on the ground,
Not even to die.
Oliphaunt am I,
Biggest of all,
Huge, old, and tall.

Continued in.... "OLIPHAUNT" available in The Tolkien Reader and also in The Two Towers.
Read Smilie

And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie
The Lay of Leithian

(In this segment of the epic, Felagund (also known as King Finrod and the brother of Galadriel) strove with Sauron in songs of power.)

by JRR Tolkien © Christopher Reuel Tolkien and taken from second edition of The Silmarillian © George Allen & Unwin Ltd.

Quote:
He chanted a song of wizardy,
Of piercing, opening, of treachery,
Revealing, uncovering, betraying.
Then sudden Felagund there swaying,
Sang in answer a song of staying,
resisting, battling against power,
Of secrets kept, strength like a tower,
And trust unbroken, freedom, escape;
Of changing and of shifting shape.
Of snares eluded, broken traps,
The prison opening, the chain that snaps.

Backwards and forwards swayed their song.
Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong
The chanting swelled, Fegalund fought,
And all the magic and might he brought
Of Elvenesse into his words.
Softly in the gloom they heard the birds
Singing afar in Nargothrond,
The sighing of the Sea beyond,
Beyond the western world, on sand,
On sand of pearls in Elvenland.
Read Smilie

Continued in.... about 10 pages into Chapter 19 entitled"Of Beren and Luthien" in The Silmarillion. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 22/11/2002 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 21/3/2003 by Grondmaster]
Thanks Grond! That's one of my favourite poems from LOTR, just because it's so simple...

Read Smilie
You & Me
And the Cottage of Lost Play


by J.R.R. Tolkien, taken from The Book of Lost Tales I: the extraordinary history of Middle-earth Edited by Christopher Tolkien. A Del Rey ® Book Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group. Copyright © 1983 by Frank Richard Williamson and Christopher Reuel Tolkien as Executors of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien.

Quote:
You and me – we know that land
And often have been there
In the long old days, old nursery days,
A dark child and a fair.
Was it down the paths of firelight dreams
In winter cold and white,
Or in the blue-spun twilit hours
Of little early tucked-up beds
In drowsy summer night,
That You and I got lost in Sleep
And met each other there –
Your dark hair on your white nightgown,
And mine was tangled fair?

We wandered shyly hand in hand,
Or rollicked in the fairy sand
And gathered pearls and shells in pails,
While all about the nightingales
Were singing in the trees.
We dug for silver with our spades
And down a warm and winding lane
We never never found again
Between high whispering trees.

The air was neither night or day,
But faintly dark with the softest light,
When first there glimmered into sight
The Cottage of Lost Play.
‘Twas builded very very old
White, and thatched with straws of gold,
And pierced with peeping lattices
That looked toward the sea;
And our own children’s garden-plots
Were there – our own forgetmenots,
Red daisies, cress and mustard,
And blue nemophilë.

O! all the borders trimmed with box
Were full of favourite flowers – of phlox,
Of larkspur, pinks, and hollyhocks
Beneath a red may-tree:
And all the paths were full of shapes,
Of tumbling happy white-clad shapes.
And you with them You and Me.

O! all the borders trimmed with box
Were full of favourite flowers – of phlox,
Of larkspur, pinks, and hollyhocks
Beneath a red may-tree:
And all the paths were full of shapes,
Of tumbling happy white-clad shapes.
And you with them You and Me.

And some had silver watering-can
And watered all their gowns,
Or sprayed each other, some laid plans
To build them houses, fairy towns,
Or dwellings in the trees;
And some were clambering on the roof;
Some crooning lonely and aloof;
And some were dancing fairy-rings
And weaving pearly daisy-strings,
Or chasing golden bees;
But here and there a little pair
With rosy cheeks and tangled hair
Debated quaint old childish things
And we were one of these.

Continued in.... "You & Me And the Cottage of Lost Play" available in The Book of Lost Tales I. Read Smilie


(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie

[Edited on 21/3/2003 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 22/3/2003 by Grondmaster]

[Edited on 23/3/2003 by Grondmaster]
thanks!! i just love it!! Happy Elf Smilie
it proves, that he isn't only a genius. he is a POETIC genius! and he also has a romantic soul...
could you also put up the poem about Aryador? it's my favourite. Wiggle Smilie
Today I added a few more stanzus to You & Me
And the Cottage of Lost Play.
Habbanan beneath the Stars

by J.R.R. Tolkien, taken from The Book of Lost Tales I: the extraordinary history of Middle-earth Edited by Christopher Tolkien. A Del Rey ® Book Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group. Copyright © 1983 by Frank Richard Williamson and Christopher Reuel Tolkien as Executors of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien.

Quote:
In Habbanan beneath the skies
Where all roads end however long
There is sound of faint guitars
And distant echoes of a song,
For there men gather into rings
Round their red fires while one voice sings –
And all about is night.

Not night as ours, unhappy folk,
Where nigh the Earth in hazy bars,
A mist about the springing of the stars,
There trails a thin and wandering smoke
Obscuring with its veil half-seen
The great abysmal still Serene.

A globe of dark glass faceted with light
Wherein the splendid winds have dusky flight;
Untrodden spaces of an odorous plain
That watches for the moon that long has lain
And caught the Meteors’ fiery rain –
Such there is night.

Continued in.... "Habbanan beneath the Stars" available in The Book of Lost Tales I. Read Smilie
(And that's all I may do of this one. Stay tuned for an additional poem, coming to this forum in the near future.) Smile Smilie
Ooops I am falling behind Grondy. You will have another one in a few moments.
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