Poems and Tales of Middle-Earth:
(illustration by Alan Lee)
Sam's song for the Trolls:
"Troll sat alone in 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 limp 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 but o'fresh meat will go down sweet!
      I'll try me 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!"
The Lord of the Rings
Part I. The Fellowship of the Ring

Quotes from Tolkien's Novel
The wound, flight to the ford.
.  "They dreaded the dark hours, and kept watch in pairs by night, expecting at any times to see black shapes stalking in the grey night, dimly lit by the cloud-veiled moon; but they saw nothing, and heard no sound but the sigh of withered leaves and grass."
.  'Have you often been to Rivendell?' said Frodo.
'I have,' said Strider. 'I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may. There my heart is; but it is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond.'
.  "Frodo was restless. The cold and wet made his wound more painful than ever, and the ache and sense of deadly chill took away all sleep. He lay tossing and turning and listening fearfully to the stealthy night-noises: wind in whinks of rock, water dripping, a crack, the sudden rattling fall of a loosened stone. He felt that black shapes were advancing to smother him; but when he sat up, he saw nothing but the back of Strider sitting hunched up, smoking his pipe and watching. He lay down again and passed into an uneasy dream, in which he walked on the grass in his garden in the Shire, but it seemed faint and dim, less clear than the tall black shadows that stood looking over the hedge."
.  "Frodo threw himself down, and lay on the ground, shivering. His left arm was lifeless, and his side and shoulder felt as if icy claws were laid upon them. The trees and rocks about him seemed shadowy and dim."
.  "Suddenly into view below came a white horse, gleaming in the shadows, running swiftly. In the dusk its headstall flickered and flashed, as if it were studded with gems like living stars. The rider's cloak streamed behind him, and his hood was thrown back; his golden hair flowed shimmering in the wind of his speed. To Frodo it appeared that a white light was shining through the form and raiment of the rider, as if through a thin veil [...] His speech and clear ringing voice left no doubt in their hearts: the rider was of the Elvenfolk. No others that dwelt in the wide world had voices so fair to hear."
.  "Frodo felt a great weariness come over him. Ever since the sun began to sink the mist before his eyes had darkened, and he felt that a shadow was coming between him and the faces of his friends. Now pain assailed him, and he felt cold. He swayed, clutching at Sam's arm."
.  "Frodo's pain had redoubled, and during the day things about him faded to shadows of ghostly grey. He almost welcomed the coming of night, for then the world seemed less pale and empty."
.  "The Riders seemed to sit upon their great steeds like threatening statues upoon a hill, dark and solid, while all the woods and land about them receded as if into a mist. [...] He could see them clearly now: they appeared to have cast aside their hoods and black cloaks, and they were robed in white and grey. Swords were naked in their pale hands; helms were on their heads. Their cold eyes glittered, and they called to him with fell voices. Fear now filled all Frodo's mind. He thought no longer of his sword. No cry came from him. He shut his eyes and clung to the horse's mane. The wind whistled in his ears, and the bells upon the harness rang wild and shrill. A breath of deadly cold pierced him like a spear, as with a last spurt, the elf-horse speeding as if on wings, passed right before the face of the foremost Rider."
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