“Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I goTo heal my heart and drown my woeRain may fall, and wind may blowAnd many miles be still to goBut under a tall tree will I lieAnd let the clouds go sailing by”

“Clap! Snap! the black crack!Grip, grab! Pinch, nab!And down down to Goblin-town You go, my lad!Clash, crash! Crush, smash!Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs!Pound, pound, far underground! Ho, ho! my lad!Swish, smack! Whip crack!Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh,Round and round far underground Below, my lad!”

“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.”

“Upon the hearth the fire is red,Beneath the roof there is a bed;But not yet weary are our feet,Still round the corner we may meetA sudden tree or standing stoneThat none have seen but we alone.Tree and flower, leaf and grass,Let them pass! Let them pass!Hill and water under sky,Pass them by! Pass them by!Still round the corner there may waitA new road or a secret gate,And though we pass them by today,Tomorrow we may come this wayAnd take the hidden paths that runTowards the Moon or to the Sun.Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,Let them go! Let them go!Sand and stone and pool and dell,Fare you well! Fare you well!Home is behind, the world ahead,And there are many paths to treadThrough shadows to the edge of night,Until the stars are all alight.Then world behind and home ahead,We'll wander back to home and bed.Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,Away shall fade! Away shall fade!Fire and lamp and meat and bread,And then to bed! And then to bed!”

“Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo!By water, wood and hill, by reed and willow,By fire, sun and moon, harken now and hear us!Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!”

“Then, Éowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful. In the valleys of our hills there are flowers fair and bright, and maidens fairer still; but neither flower nor lady have I seen till now in Gondor so lovely, and so sorrowful. It may be that only a few days are left ere darkness falls upon our world, and when it comes I hope to face it steadily; but it would ease my heart, if while the Sun yet shines, I could see you still. For you and I have both passed under the wings of the Shadow, and the same hand drew us back.”

“Farewell," they cried, "Wherever you fare till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles."May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.”