The Fellowship of the Ring

A ship then new they built for him

 

of mithril and of elven-glass

 

with shining prow; no shaven oar

 

nor sail she bore on silver mast:

 

the Silmaril as lantern light

 

and banner bright with living flame

 

to gleam thereon by Elbereth

 

herself was set, who thither came

 

and wings immortal made for him,

 

and laid on him undying doom,

 

to sail the shoreless skies and come

 

behind the Sun and light of Moon.

 

 

From Evereven’s lofty hills

 

where softly silver fountains fall

 

his wings him bore, a wandering light,

 

beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.

 

From World’s End then he turned away,

 

and yearned again to find afar

 

his home through shadows journeying,

 

and burning as an island star

 

on high above the mists he came,

 

a distant flame before the Sun,

 

a wonder ere the waking dawn

 

where grey the Norland waters run.

 

 

And over Middle-earth he passed

 

and heard at last the weeping sore

 

of women and of elven-maids

 

in Elder Days, in years of yore.

 

But on him mighty doom was laid,

 

till Moon should fade, an orbéd star

 

to pass, and tarry never more

 

on Hither Shores where mortals are;

 

for ever still a herald on

 

an errand that should never rest

 

to bear his shining lamp afar,

 

the Flammifer of Westernesse.

 

The chanting ceased. Frodo opened his eyes and saw that Bilbo was seated on his stool in a circle of listeners, who were smiling and applauding.

 

‘Now we had better have it again,’ said an Elf.

 

Bilbo got up and bowed. ‘I am flattered, Lindir,’ he said. ‘But it would be too tiring to repeat it all.’

 

‘Not too tiring for you,’ the Elves answered laughing. ‘You know you are never tired of reciting your own verses. But really we cannot answer your question at one hearing!’

 

‘What!’ cried Bilbo. ‘You can’t tell which parts were mine, and which were the Dúnadan’s?’

 

‘It is not easy for us to tell the difference between two mortals,’ said the Elf.

 

‘Nonsense, Lindir,’ snorted Bilbo. ‘If you can’t distinguish between a Man and a Hobbit, your judgement is poorer than I imagined. They’re as different as peas and apples.’

 

‘Maybe. To sheep other sheep no doubt appear different,’ laughed Lindir. ‘Or to shepherds. But Mortals have not been our study. We have other business.’

 

‘I won’t argue with you,’ said Bilbo. ‘I am sleepy after so much music and singing. I’ll leave you to guess, if you want to.’

 

He got up and came towards Frodo. ‘Well, that’s over,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It went off better than I expected. I don’t often get asked for a second hearing. What did you think of it?’

 

‘I am not going to try and guess,’ said Frodo smiling.

 

‘You needn’t,’ said Bilbo. ‘As a matter of fact it was all mine. Except that Aragorn insisted on my putting in a green stone. He seemed to think it important. I don’t know why. Otherwise he obviously thought the whole thing rather above my head, and he said that if I had the cheek to make verses about E?rendil in the house of Elrond, it was my affair. I suppose he was right.’

 

‘I don’t know,’ said Frodo. ‘It seemed to me to fit somehow, though I can’t explain. I was half asleep when you began, and it seemed to follow on from something that I was dreaming about. I didn’t understand that it was really you speaking until near the end.’

 

‘It is difficult to keep awake here, until you get used to it,’ said Bilbo. ‘Not that hobbits would ever acquire quite the Elvish appetite for music and poetry and tales. They seem to like them as much as food, or more. They will be going on for a long time yet. What do you say to slipping off for some more quiet talk?’

 

‘Can we?’ said Frodo.

 

‘Of course. This is merrymaking not business. Come and go as you like, as long as you don’t make a noise.’

 

They got up and withdrew quietly into the shadows, and made for the doors. Sam they left behind, fast asleep still with a smile on his face. In spite of his delight in Bilbo’s company Frodo felt a tug of regret as they passed out of the Hall of Fire. Even as they stepped over the threshold a single clear voice rose in song.

 

 

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!

 

Frodo halted for a moment, looking back. Elrond was in his chair and the fire was on his face like summer-light upon the trees. Near him sat the Lady Arwen. To his surprise Frodo saw that Aragorn stood beside her; his dark cloak was thrown back, and he seemed to be clad in elven-mail, and a star shone on his breast. They spoke together, and then suddenly it seemed to Frodo that Arwen turned towards him, and the light of her eyes fell on him from afar and pierced his heart.

 

He stood still enchanted, while the sweet syllables of the Elvish song fell like clear jewels of blended word and melody. ‘It is a song to Elbereth,’ said Bilbo. ‘They will sing that, and other songs of the Blessed Realm, many times tonight. Come on!’

 

He led Frodo back to his own little room. It opened on to the gardens and looked south across the ravine of the Bruinen. There they sat for some while, looking through the window at the bright stars above the steep-climbing woods, and talking softly. They spoke no more of the small news of the Shire far away, nor of the dark shadows and perils that encompassed them, but of the fair things they had seen in the world together, of the Elves, of the stars, of trees, and the gentle fall of the bright year in the woods.

 

At last there came a knock on the door. ‘Begging your pardon,’ said Sam, putting in his head, ‘but I was just wondering if you would be wanting anything.’

 

‘And begging yours, Sam Gamgee,’ replied Bilbo. ‘I guess you mean that it is time your master went to bed.’

 

‘Well, sir, there is a Council early tomorrow, I hear, and he only got up today for the first time.’

 

‘Quite right, Sam,’ laughed Bilbo. ‘You can trot off and tell Gandalf that he has gone to bed. Good night, Frodo! Bless me, but it has been good to see you again! There are no folk like hobbits after all for a real good talk. I am getting very old, and I began to wonder if I should live to see your chapters of our story. Good night! I’ll take a walk, I think, and look at the stars of Elbereth in the garden. Sleep well!’

 

 

 

 

 

J. R. R. Tolkien's books