[HerenIstarion]

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 cave 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' roy 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 meat will go down sweet!
I'll try my teeth on thee now.
Нее 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!


***

The crowd of dwarves ran and jumped on turf
By the lake they lived and watched the surf
Just for a day, they all came to play
For it was a feast of an open fist
All wist! All gist!
They left their cave and mushroom erf
And came to the lake with the morning mist!

Down came Smaug the Strong with his wings a-wide
With an iron scale, and a foul hide
Pouring fire a-soar, rising smokes a-roar!
Swifter he flew than a gale!
A hail! A wail!
This very day nowhere to hide
Their halls and gates had proved frail!

‘My dwarves’, said drake, ‘your halls I’ll take
And burnt be down the town on lake
Your lode and mine, all soon be mine
And I’ll grow fat on dwarfmeat!
Teeth bit! Tail hit!
In the cave or by lake, I’ll skin you and bake
And hence cave be lit with my breath heat!

The dwarves forlorn, their beards they torn
But almost all were dead by morn
With an iron claw of his mighty paw
He clove his passage in!
Deep in! Crawl in!
To grab their gold, the trove untold
Of riches gather in!

Not ax, nor sword, nor pleading word
Could stop the drake across the ford
He went ashore, threw down the door
He held his feast on dwarves poor!
On poor! The boor!
The least of rings and gems a-hoard
He clawed in heaps to pour!

For many an year, noone came near
For awe of the drake and for death’s fear
He slept on his gold, and his heat went cold
Pretty gems impressed to his belly!
Soft as it was like a jelly!
But not everywhere, some spots were bare
With some slime showing off his belly!

Though the tooth be long, and the wing still strong
But the trove can’t be kept if it’s gain were wrong
Not on top, nor under a barrow, on a path a-wide or a-narrow ...
The man there lived who honed his bow
Man of law! Of no flaw!
In the south he lived by the Lake of Long
And he knew how to shoot an arrow!

Now some may be glad, or some maybe sad
But the drake is no more, there he lies, he is dead
And for all who care, the gems are there
On the river bed, on the lake floor
Says the lore!
Under the waves where winds howl bad
For those who dare to dive for more!