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it again。〃 Odd sort of remark； just like Gandalf。 But he said he was looking after you； so I let things be。 I am frightfully glad to see you safe and sound。' He paused and looked at Frodo doubtfully。
'Have you got it here？' he asked in a whisper。 'I can't help feeling curious； you know； after all I've heard。 I should very much like just to peep at it again。'
'Yes； I've got it；' answered Frodo； feeling a strange reluctance。 'It looks just the same as ever it did。'
'Well； I should just like to see it for a moment；' said Bilbo。
When he had dressed； Frodo found that while he slept the Ring had been hung about his neck on a new chain； light but strong。 Slowly he drew it out。 Bilbo put out his hand。 But Frodo quickly drew back the Ring。 To his distress and amazement he found that he was no longer looking at Bilbo； a shadow seemed to have fallen between them； and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands。 He felt a desire to strike him。
The music and singing round them seemed to falter and a silence fell。 Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo's face and passed his hand across his eyes。 'I understand now；' he said。 'Put it away！ I am sorry： sorry you have e in for this burden： sorry about everything。 Don't adventures ever have an end？ I suppose not。 Someone else always has to carry on the story。 Well； it can't be helped。 I wonder if it's any good trying to finish my book。 But don't let's worry about it nowlet's have some real News！ Tell me all about the Shire！'
Frodo hid the Ring away； and the shadow passed leaving hardly a shred of memory。 The light and music of Rivendell was about him again。 Bilbo smiled and laughed happily。 Every item of news from the Shire that Frodo could tellaided and corrected now and again by Samwas of the greatest interest to him； from the felling of the least tree to the pranks of the smallest child in Hobbiton。 They were so deep in the doings of the Four Farthings that they did not notice the arrival of a man clad in dark green cloth。 For many minutes he stood looking down at them with a smile。
Suddenly Bilbo looked up。 'Ah； there you are at last； Dúnadan！' he cried。
'Strider！' said Frodo。 'You seem to have a lot of names。'
'Well； Strider is one that I haven't heard before； anyway；' said Bilbo。 'What do you call him that for？'
'They call me that in Bree；' said Strider laughing； 'and that is how I was introduced to him。'
'And why do you call him Dúnadan？' asked Frodo。
'The Dúnadan；' said Bilbo。 'He is often called that here。 But I thought you knew enough Elvish at least to know dúnudan： Man of the West； Númenorean。 But this is not the time for lessons！' He turned to Strider。
'Where have you been； my friend？ Why weren't you at the feast？ The Lady Arwen was there。'
Strider looked down at Bilbo gravely。 'I know；' he said。 'But often I must put mirth aside。 Elladan and Elrohir have returned out of the Wild unlookedfor； and they had tidings that I wished to hear at once。'
'Well； my dear fellow；' said Bilbo； 'now you've heard the news； can't you spare me a moment？ I want your help in something urgent。 Elrond says this song of mine is to be finished before the end of the evening； and I am stuck。 Let's go off into a corner and polish it up！'
Strider smiled。 'e then！' he said。 'Let me hear it！'
Frodo was left to himself for a while； for Sam had fallen asleep。 He was alone and felt rather forlorn’ although all about him the folk of Rivendell were gathered。 But those near him were silent； intent upon the music of the voices and the instruments； and they gave no heed to anything else。 Frodo began to listen。
At first the beauty of the melodies and of the interwoven words in elven tongues； even though he understood them little’ held him in a spell； as soon as he began to attend to them。 Almost it seemed that the words took shape； and visions of far lands and bright things that he had never yet imagined opened out before him； and the firelit hall became like a golden mist above seas of foam that sighed upon the margins of the world。 Then the enchantment became more and more dreamlike； until he felt that an endless river of swelling gold and silver was flowing over him； too multitudinous for its pattern to be prehended； it became part of the throbbing air about him； and it drenched and drowned him。 Swiftly he sank under its shining weight into a deep realm of sleep。
There he wandered long in a dream of music that turned into running water； and then suddenly into a voice。 It seemed to be the voice of Bilbo chanting verses。 Faint at first and then clearer ran the words。
Edrendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien；
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in；
her sails he wove of silver fair；
of silver were her lanterns made；
her prow was fashioned like a swan；
and light upon her banners laid。
In panoply of ancient kings；
in chainéd rings he armoured him；
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him；
his bow was made of dragonhorn；
his arrows shorn of ebony；
of silver was his habergeon；
his scabbard of chalcedony；
his sword of steel was valiant；
of adamant his helmet tall；
an eagleplume upon his crest；
upon his breast an emerald。
Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands；
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands。
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills；
from her heats and burning waste
he turned in haste； and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught；
and passed； and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought。
The winds of wrath came driving him；
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless；
unheralded he homeward sped。
There flying Elwing came to him；
and flame was in the darkness lit；
more bright than light of diamond
the fire upon her carca。
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow； and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose；
a wind of power in Tarmenel；
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and longforsaken seas distressed：
from east to west he passed away。
Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began；
until he heard on strands of pearl
when ends the world the music long；
where ever foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan。
He saw the Mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor； and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas。
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last；
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air； where pale as glass
beneath the Hill of Ilmarin
aglimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored on the Shadowmere。
He tarried there from errantry；
and melodies they taught to him；
and sages old him marvels told；
and harps of gold they brought to him。
They clothed him then in elvenwhite；
and seven lights before him sent；
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went。
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years；
and endless reigns theElder King
in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer；
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk of Men and Elvenkin；
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein。
A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elvenglass
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 e
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 Middleearth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elvenmaids
in Elder Days； in years of yore。
gut 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