A song by Kester Proudfoot, inspired by his and his friends’ own unhappy run-in with goblins in the Misty Mountains, far from Greenfields.
Five weedy old goblins from mountain-cave cold
Heard of a fine hobbit come far from his hole
“We’ll feast on his fat,” said the goblin-chief bold,
Forgetting how Golfimbul’s goblin-head rolled.
In Greenfields a goblin named Golfimbul came
To fill up his larder and win goblin fame,
But Golfimbul’s goblins fled crying in shame
When a hobbit named Took with a stout club took aim!
Old Bandobras Took was a hobbit renowned
For towering over all hobbits around.
His height every tailor’s yardstick would confound:
A yard and a half from his toes to his crown!
This leader of Tooks met Golfimbul one morn.
No sword did he bear, with but cudgel adorned.
But a swing and a thump and a goblin was shorn —
And Golfimbul without his head was forlorn.
Five goblins from chilly caves, bellies all ringing,
Lay waiting in muck and then all came up springing —
But a hobbit-lad’s knife and thrown rock all a-stinging
Left five goblins dead and one fine hobbit singing!
[…] Fall — Of Leaves and Stewed Hobbit Returning from the mountains, the adventurers were surprised to discover a hobbit family had established a little inn on the north-south road north of the Old Forest Road. The hobbits had recently lost a great deal of money and goods to goblin bandits, not to mention their cousin who was bringing the goods from the Shire. The adventurers recovered the loot from the goblins and brought the cousin home safe. Finally they returned to Esgaroth. Kester sings: Five Weedy Goblins. […]
Permalink