Bombadil and Goldberry
A merry man was Master Tom Like Ents he would go "Hoom hoom hom!" He told all things in nonsense words About the trees and truths and birds
"Ho! Tom Bombadil!" he would say astride Withywindle he walked each day and there he found the River-daughter picking lilies in the water
"Merry-o, derry-o, merry yellow berry-o!"
Goldberry, Goldberry why do you dream While you are splashing your feet in the stream? Master, Master where are you going?
The Hobbits need help and the riveris flowing Master, oh Master from whence do you come? Goldberry is waiting, hum diddely dum!
The table is laden with honey and bread You'd best get you home to your table and bed. Or do you not sleep? Do you gaze into waters Blue, wide and deep and look into the future Or present or past? Till the end you will last
Ho! Merry-o, derry-o, diddly dum doo! No one has or will ever catch you! Your eyes are too sharp, your feet are too swift Of all your attributes there is a great list Your hair is of chocolate, your eyes of the sky Your lady's is gold but her eyes are likewise
You command the Old Forest, that much is true But none of the Forest belongs to you The Forest belongs to itself but they, faster, Obey Bombadil for he is the Master
And Goldberry sings of the wind and the rain She sings of the glory and sings of the pain She sings of things come and sings of things gone She sings of the dusk and she sings of the dawn
She sings of the winter, spring, summer and fall She sings to Old Tom, the Master of all She sang to the Hobbits She sings to the trees Her voice is the sound on the light morning breeze
Her voice is like velvet, thick spun and rich Yet her voice is like water, with glorious pitch She'll sing many songs from beginning to end Of the time of Middle-Earth, till finally, then She must pass o'er the Sea to Eriador Then you will hear her singing no more
Oh Goldberry, Goldberry, why do you flee So far out of reach, out over the Sea? Bombadil, Bombadil, where did you go? The Forest, without you, will soon cease to grow And the river, Goldberry, will soon cease to flow.
All beauty is gone and the Elves' time is up May food fill your plate and drink fill your cup This is the end and now I must say You will hear no more of this story today.
A merry man was Master Tom Like Ents he would go "Hoom hoom hom!" He told all things in nonsense words About the trees and truths and birds
"Ho! Tom Bombadil!" he would say astride Withywindle he walked each day and there he found the River-daughter picking lilies in the water
"Merry-o, derry-o, merry yellow berry-o!"
Goldberry, Goldberry why do you dream While you are splashing your feet in the stream? Master, Master where are you going?
The Hobbits need help and the riveris flowing Master, oh Master from whence do you come? Goldberry is waiting, hum diddely dum!
The table is laden with honey and bread You'd best get you home to your table and bed. Or do you not sleep? Do you gaze into waters Blue, wide and deep and look into the future Or present or past? Till the end you will last
Ho! Merry-o, derry-o, diddly dum doo! No one has or will ever catch you! Your eyes are too sharp, your feet are too swift Of all your attributes there is a great list Your hair is of chocolate, your eyes of the sky Your lady's is gold but her eyes are likewise
You command the Old Forest, that much is true But none of the Forest belongs to you The Forest belongs to itself but they, faster, Obey Bombadil for he is the Master
And Goldberry sings of the wind and the rain She sings of the glory and sings of the pain She sings of things come and sings of things gone She sings of the dusk and she sings of the dawn
She sings of the winter, spring, summer and fall She sings to Old Tom, the Master of all She sang to the Hobbits She sings to the trees Her voice is the sound on the light morning breeze
Her voice is like velvet, thick spun and rich Yet her voice is like water, with glorious pitch She'll sing many songs from beginning to end Of the time of Middle-Earth, till finally, then She must pass o'er the Sea to Eriador Then you will hear her singing no more
Oh Goldberry, Goldberry, why do you flee So far out of reach, out over the Sea? Bombadil, Bombadil, where did you go? The Forest, without you, will soon cease to grow And the river, Goldberry, will soon cease to flow.
All beauty is gone and the Elves' time is up May food fill your plate and drink fill your cup This is the end and now I must say You will hear no more of this story today.