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This page will mostly be for other links/stuff we like...A big fiesta basically.
Hey. It'll be cool. Stop laughing.
This is an interpretation of the famous Celtic Tree of Life. It has interlacing
silver branches and roots, with copper leaves, and tiny copper acorns (which occur in threes, a magical number in a lot of
ancient cultures including the Celts). The tree itself is an oak tree, the tree of the Druids, and there is a small Celtic
Serpent curled at it's base. The Celtic Serpent represented eternal life and rebirth to the Celts. Since Pippi and I both
love Ireland/Celtic stuff, I thought it would be fitting. Also, I am going to get that thing tattoed to me one day. Don't
try and stop me.
Some very esteemed songs from Lotr brought to you by Pip! Hope you enjoy!
*Cheers*
Elves of Rivendell
(Sung on Bilbo's return from his travels)
The dragon is withered,
His bones are now crumbled;
His armour is shivered,
His spledor is humbled!
Though sword shall be rusted,
And throne and crown perish
With strength that men trusted
And wealth that they cherish,
Here is grass growing,
And leaves are yet swinging,
The white water flowing,
And elves are yet singing
Come! Tra-la-la-lally!
Come back to the valley!
The stars are far brighter
Than gems without measure,
The moon is far whiter
Than silver in treasure:
The fire is more shining
On hearth in the gloaming
Than gold won by mining,
So why go a-roaming?
O! Tra-la-la-lally
Come back to the Valley.
O! Where are you going,
So late in returning?
The river is flowing,
The stars are all burning!
O! Whither so laden
So sad and so dreary?
Here elf and elf-maiden
Now welcome the weary
With Tra-la-la-lally
Come back to the Valley,
Tra-la-la-lally
Fa-la-la-lally
Fa-la!
Bilbo's Traveling Song
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 eager feet
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet
And whither then? I cannnot say
Tom Bombidillo
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;
Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.
Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow!
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!
Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! My darling!
Light goes the weather-wind and the feathered starling.
Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight,
Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight,
There my pretty lady is, River-woman's daughter,
Slender as a willow-wand, clearer than the water.
Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies bringing
Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?
Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! and merry-o,
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!
Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!
Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.
Tom's going home again water-lilies bringing.
Hey! come merry dol! Can you hear me singing?
Aragorn
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not whither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
Song of Elbereth
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-diriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, si nef aearon!
Song of Luthien and Beren
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The
hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing
there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold,
And
lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between
the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over
hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through
woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest
listening.
He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet
as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And
one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves
of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moan and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in
the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her
song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers
spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinuviel!
Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His
voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinuviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows
of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair,
Immortal
maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er
stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering
Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.
Nimrodel
An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.
A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lorien the fair.
Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree.
Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell,
Into the shining pool.
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade,
For lost of lore was Nimrodel,
And in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.
When dawn came din the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.
Of old he was an Elven-king,
A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlorien.
From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
Go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore.
Frodo's Lament for Gandalf
When evening in the Shire was grey
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;
before the dawn he went away
on journey long without a word.
From Wilderland to Western shore,
from norther waste to southern hill,
through dragon-lair and hidden door
and darkling woods he walked at will.
With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,
with mortal and immortal folk,
with bird on bough and beast in den,
in their own secret tongues he spoke.
A deadly sword, a healing hand,
a back that bent beneath its load;
a trumpet-voice a burning brand,
a weary pilgrim on the road.
A lord of wisdom throned he sat,
swift in anger, quick to laugh;
an old man in a battered hat
who leaned upon a thorny staff.
He stood upon the bridge alone
And Fire and Shadow both defied;
his staff was broken on the stone,
in Khazad-dum his wisdom died.
Lament for Boromir
Through Rohan over fen and field where the
long grass
grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it
goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you
bring me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or star-
light?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide
and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the sun of
Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked
afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men
are.'
From the mouth of the Sea the South Wind flies,
from
the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it
moans.
'What news from the South, O singing wind, do you bring
to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve'
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell-so many bones
there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the
stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing
Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind
sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs
south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey
sea's mouth.'
From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past
the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind do you
bring me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he
fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they do the water
brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid
to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its
breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of Gaurd shall ever northward
gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.'
Song of Gondor
Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the
Sea!
West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree
Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.
O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and
throne of gold!
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and
the Sea?
The Long List of the Ents
Learn now the lore of Living Creatures!
First name the four (five) , the free peoples:
Eldest of all, the elf-children;
Dwarf the delver, dark are his houses;
Ent the earthborn, old as mountains;
Man the mortal, master of horses;
Half-grown hobbits, the hole-dwellers.
Hm, hm, hm.
Beaver the builder, buck the leaper,
Bear bee-hunter, boar the fighter;
Hound is hungry, hare is fearful ...
hm, hm.
Eagle in eyrie, ox in pasture,
Hart horn-crowned; hawk is swiftest,
Swan the whitest, serpant coldest ...
Long Live the Halflings
Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great
praise!
Cuio i Pheriain anann! Aglar'ni Pheriannath!
Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!
Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annun! Eglerio!
Praise them!
Eglerio!
A laita te, laita te! Andave laituvalmet!
Praise them!
Cormacolindor, a laita tarienna!
Praise them! The Ring-bearers, praise them with great praise!
Legolas' Song of the Sea
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 Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!
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