Feasting In Rivendell
(To the tune of ‘Good King Wenselas’)
Good old Legolas looked out,
From the Feast of Elrond,
While the hobbits round about,
With the food did bond.
“Hither Sam and stand by me,
If thou knowst it, telling,
Yonder hobbit, who is he,
What and who he’s frelling?”
“Elf, he is from good old Shire,
I’ll don’t think he’ll do you;
And if you try, you’ll raise my ire,
And I’ll have to kill you.”
“Fair enough, I will stand back,
You clearly love him deeply,
Excuse me while I hit the sack,
For I am quite sleepy.”
The Elf he started to depart,
But his flight was halted;
By the one who held Sam’s heart,
In his ring’ed clutches.
“Do not leave us, Master Elf,”
Said our little Frodo,
“Stay awhile and drink our health,
‘Till the mead runs low.”
By the hobbit’s chair he sat,
‘Tother side to Gimli;
And he watched the dwarven hat,
Start to nod so tiredly.
Fell in love the three did then,
Though they knew it not;
Elrond watched like Mother Hen,
As they had The Sex a lot.