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- The Books (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/forumdisplay.php?f=9)

- - Poems (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=1416)

What was everyone's favorite poems in the book? I liked the one about Tinuviel and the Man in the Moon one (I have it graffitied on my pencilcase at school. My friends think I'm strange.... BUT NONE OF THEM LIKE LOTR!!! HOW STRANGE CAN YOU GET?!? Sorry. Had to let it out.)

Quote:

Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!
Leave the halls and caverns deep,
Leave the northern mountains steep,
Where the forest wide and dim
Stoops in shadow grey and grim!
Float beyond the world of trees
Out into the whispering breeze,
Past the rushes, past the reeds,
Past the marsh's waving weeds,
Through the mist that riseth white
Up from mere and pool at night!
Follow, follow stars that leap
Up the heavens cold and steep;
Turn when dawn comes over land,
Over rapid, over sand,
South away! and South away!
Seek the sunlight and the day,
Back to pasture, back to mead,
Where the kine and oxen feed!
Back to gardens on the hills
Where the berry swells and fills
Under sunlight, under day!
South away! and South away!
Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!

and

Quote:

To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling.
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!’

Quote:

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 weary feet
Until it joins some larger way;
Where many paths and errands meet
And whither then I cannot say

An apt metaphor for life, i think. I also like Pippin's bathtime song (its so true!), but i can't remember that in full. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Oh, dear. (Birdie prepares to duck). I generally think Tolkien's poetry is his "weak point" (Birdie ducks!). Great prosemaster, though!

If pushed to choose one, it would have to be Frodo's ode to Gandalf that he wrote in Lorien. I'll leave it to others to look it up.

Of course, to be fair, I have not read "Bombadil" or others of Tolkien's poetry collections, so maybe I should reserve judgement.

Quote:

In that vast shadow once of yore
Fingolfin stood: his shield he bore
with field of heaven's blue and star
of crystal shining pale afar.
In overmastering wrath and hate
desperate he smote upon that gate,
the Gnomish king, there standing lone,
while endless fortresses of stone
engulfed the thin clear ringing keen
of silver horn on baldric green.
His hopeless challenge dauntless cried
Fingolfin there: 'Come, open wide,
dark king, you ghatsly brazen doors!
Come forth, whom earth and heaven abhors!
Come forth, O monstruous craven lord,
and fight with thine own hand and sword,
thou wielder of hosts of banded thralls,
thou tyrant leaguered with strong walls,
thou foe of Gods and elvish race!
I wait thee here. Come! Show thy face!'

Then Morgoth came. For the last time
in those great wars he dared to climb
from subterranean throne profound,
the rumour of his feet a sound
of rumbling earthquake underground.
Black-armoured, towering, iron-crowned
he issued forth; his mighty shield
a vast unblazoned sable field
with shadow like a thundercloud;
and o'er the gleaming king it bowed,
as huge aloft like mace he hurled
that hammer of the underworld,
Grond. Clanging to ground it tumbled
down like a thunder-bolt, and crumbled
the rocks beneath it; smoke up-started,
a pit yawned, and a fire darted.

Fingolfin like a shooting light
beneath a cloud, a stab of white,
sprang then aside, and Ringil drew
like ice that gleameth cold and blue,
his sword devised of elvish skill
to pierce the flesh with deadly chill.
With seven wounds it rent his foe,
and seven mighty cries of woe
rang in the mountains, and the earth quook,
and Angband's trembling armies shook.

Yet Orcs would after laughing tell
of the duel at the gates of hell;
though elvish song thereof was made
ere this but one - when sad was laid
the mighty king in barrow high
and Thorndor, Eagle of the sky,
the dreadful tidings brought and told
to mourning Elfinesse of old.
Thrice was Fingolfin with great blows
to his knees beaten, thrice he rose
still leaping up beneath the cloud
aloft to hold star-shining, proud,
his stricken shield, his sundered helm,
that dark nor might could overwhelm
till all the earth was burst and rent
in pits about him. He was spent.
His feet stumbled. He fell to wreck
upon the ground, and on his neck
a foot like rooted hills was set,
and he was crushed - not conquered yet;
one last despairing stroke he gave:
the mighty foot pale Ringil clave
about the heel, and black the blood
gushed as from smoking fount in flood.

Halt goes for ever from that stroke
great Morgoth; but the king he broke,
and would have hewn and mangled thrown
to wolves devouring. Lo! from throne
that Manwë bade him build on high,
on peak unscaled beneath the sky,
Morgoth to watch, now down there swooped
Thorndor the King of Eagles, stooped,
and rending beak of gold he smote
in Bauglir's face, then up did float
on pinions thirty fathoms wide
bearing away, though loud they cried,
the mighty corse, the elven-king;
and where the mountains make a ring
far to the south about that plain
where after Gondolin did reign,
embattled city, at great height
upon a dizzy snowcap white
in mounded cairn the mighty dead
he laid upon the mountain's head.
Never Orc nor demon after dared
that pass to climb, o'er which they stared
Fingolfin's high and holy tomb,
till Gondolin's appointed doom.

Quote:

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies,
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times that were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

I am going to put that up in my locker!!!! And if my friends don't like it..... they can leave [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Everyone who likes poetry in general should check out the Gaudeamus Igitur Thread. If you can get past the inane babble (which is mostly mine, as a matter of fact), there are some genuinely great posts on Tolkien & beyond in there.

[ February 28, 2002: Message edited by: Lush ]

<center><font color="red">My favourite would definately have to be Galadriel's song, but I love all of them.

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew;
Of wind I sand, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmaren there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lórien! The winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now would sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

It's too long to type, but my favorite is Tinùviel. My other fav is Nimrodel. I also like the song of Eärendil, written by Biblo with help from Aragorn.

I can't believe you forgot the best song in Lord of the Rings! [img]smilies/rolleyes.gif[/img]

Quote:

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 case 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 meal 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!

Woo hoo! Go Sam! He was a good poet for such a simple fellow. Well, my eyes hurt so I'm not going to try and read that puny print in my LotR, but my fave poem is also said by Sam, though he didn't write it. The last two lines are in my signature; the poem at Cirith Ungol! It was so pretty... *sigh*

And many things Gimli says are just beautiful!

My favorite poems:

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 spear was long, his sword 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 went away
And where he dwells no man can say.
For long ago there fell his star
In Mordor, where the Shadows are.

And:

A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, sí nef aearon!

Ha ha! What great poems! I would type my favorite down, but I don't really feel like getting up and getting my book. So, I will just tell you! My favorie poem has to be the poem of Nimrodel! I think it is just lovely!

I love them all! But my favorite is The Road Goes Ever On. Galadriel's song is a close second.

Yes, some think JRRT's poetry was his weak point, and they are welcome to their opinion. I think his poetry is one of his strongest points. His ability to choose the best rhythm and rhyme schemes for his purpose reveal that.

Thingol,

I heartily second your choice. It's my favorite as well. Coincidently, I was just rereading it earlier today. It's why I picked my user name.

hehe, Thanks, welcome to the Downs by the way. [img]smilies/cool.gif[/img]