The Adventures of Tom Bombadil

The old Troll sadly sat and wept
      outside the Lockholes gate,
and Perry-the-Winkle up he crept
      and patted him on the pate.
'O why do you weep, you great big lump?
      You're better outside than in!'
He gave the Troll a friendly thump,
      and laughed to see him grin.

'O Perry-the-Winkle boy', he cried,
      'come, you're the lad for me!
Now if you're willing to take a ride,
      I'll carry you home to tea'.
He jumped on his back and held on tight,
      and 'Off you go!' said he;
and the Winkle had a feast that night,
      and sat on the old Troll's knee.

There were pikelets, there was buttered toast,
      and jam, and cream, and cake,
and the Winkle strove to eat the most,
      though his buttons all should break.
The kettle sang, the fire was hot,
      the pot was large and brown,
and the Winkle tried to drink the lot,
      in tea though he should drown.

When full and tight were coat and skin,
      they rested without speech,
till the old Troll said: 'I'll now begin
      the baker's art to teach,
the making of beautiful cramsome bread,
      of bannocks light and brown;
and then you can sleep on a heather-bed
      with pillows of owlets' down'.

'Young Winkle, where've you been?' they said.
      'I've been to a fulsome tea,
and I feel so fat, for I have fed
      on cramsome bread', said he.
'But where, my lad, in the Shire was that?
      Or out in Bree?' said they.
But Winkle he up and answered flat:
      'I aint a-going to say'.

'But I know where', said Peeping Jack,
      'I watched him ride away:
he went upon the old Troll's back
      to the hills of Faraway'.
Then all the People went with a will,
      by pony, cart, or moke,
until they came to a house in a hill
      and saw a chimney smoke.

They hammered upon the old Troll's door.
      'A beautiful cramsome cake
O bake for us, please, or two, or more;
      O bake!' they cried, 'O bake!'
'Go home, go home!' the old Troll said.
      'I never invited you.
Only on Thursdays I bake my bread,
      and only for a few'.

'Go home! Go home! There's some mistake.
      My house is far too small;
and I've no pikelets, cream, or cake:
      the Winkle has eaten all!
You Jack, and Hogg, old Bunce and Pott
      I wish no more to see.
Be off! Be off now all the lot!
      The Winkle's the boy for me!'

Now Perry-the-Winkle grew so fat
      through eating of cramsome bread,
his weskit bust, and never a hat
      would sit upon his head;
for Every Thursday he went to tea,
      and sat on the kitchen floor,
and smaller the old Troll seemed to be,
      as he grew more and more.

The Winkle a Baker great became,
      as still is said in song;
from the Sea to Bree there went the fame
      of his bread both short and long.
But it weren't so good as the cramsome bread;
      no butter so rich and free,
as Every Thursday the old Troll spread
      for Perry-the-Winkle's tea.