Of Grima Wormtongue
'
Groveling at Master's feet,
A throne, he thinks, should be his seat.
Ah, and such a thought is sweet
To Grima Wormtongue.
'
A shieldmaiden fair, his prize;
He watches her while spinning lies.
Though hooded, hungry are the eyes
Of Grima Wormtongue.
'
And crooked words, 'til lightning falls,
He'll bandy in the Golden Halls,
Then leave again when Master calls
For Grima Wormtongue.
'
A slinking snake does what he can
To spit his poison, plot his plan;
And yet that snake was once a man
Named Grima Wormtongue.
'
Ruined wretch, his time is spent
On gnawing words, his malice bent
On Rohan; 'tis the punishment
For Grima Wormtongue.
'
With wild hatred and a knife
He puts an end to all the strife
His Master wrought. It costs the life
Of Grima Wormtongue.
'
A dagger hidden in a fold,
A lust for hair of shining gold:
A wretched tale, when all told,
Of Grima Wormtongue.