Paul Corfield Godfrey's "Appendix: Fragments and Scenes from The Lord of the Rings" Demo Recording

During our work on Paul's "Silmarillion" cycle we started working on some of the completed sections of his aborted "The Lord of The Rings" cycle. We originally had a plan to release the smaller fragments as a stand alone disc and the longer pieces, namely "The Long Expected Party", "Tom Bombadil" and "The Grey Havens", would have their own double disc release later down the line.


The biggest piece that was intended for the first release was Paul's 30 minute setting of "The Lay of Earendil" for solo tenor which he has subsequently re-imagined and reworked for the chorus to sing in the middle act of "The War of Wrath".  This no longer being the centrepiece of the Appendix meant we had a rather large hole on the first release.  Upon discussion with Paul we thought it best to combine the two appendices into one two disc release but with this decision something had to go to make the pieces fit.  The casualty in this case was from the beginning of "The Grey Havens" where Paul had done a 30 minute setting of "The Sea Bell" for Frodo to sing as he is preparing to leave for the Havens.  The themes from this setting had also been cannibalised for "The Silmarillion" and rather than have too much repetition of material we agreed it would be best to cut this and the result would be two quite full discs of Lord of the Rings material that mostly pre-dates his work on the Silmarillion and could therefore serve as a perfect appendix to those works.

These sections from the abandoned project are more than worthy of being heard in their own right, but without the context of the whole cycle to hear we hope that this release will serve to at least combine them all in one place.  

This project, due to it's fragmentary nature, is being recorded in and around our work on the main cycle, with the singers involved, bar a couple of new faces to our projects, takin these on to record when recording the larger works as a side-line.  This means that the project will be very slow to come together but by the time of release of "War of Wrath" they should be almost ready to go.

The Pieces

The fragments and scenes are all composed for solo voices, full chorus and orchestra.

The pieces are as follows:

Disc One:

"The Long-Expected Party" (20 minutes): Angharad Morgan/Simon Crosby Buttle

This was the opening of the cycle, opens with a scene in the Shire with all of the Hobbits gossiping about Bilbo's birthday party and goes up as far as Bilbo performing his vanishing act in front of everyone at said party.

"Bilbo's Walking Song" (2 minutes):

Bilbo singing to himself as he departs for Rivendell after escaping his birthday party.

"Drinking Song" (1 minute): Julian Boyce

Pippin and Sam singing a merry song on their way to Crickhollow.

"Tom Bombadil" (40 minutes): Simon Crosby Buttle

This is a complete act from one of the planned operas, starting with the Hobbits in the woods, getting attacked by the trees, leading up to Tom Bombadil saving them from the Barrowwights and sending them onwards to Bree.

Disc Two:

"Strider: All that is Gold..." (1.5 minutes):

Frodo is reading a note from Gandalf that has been left for him in the Prancing Pony.


"Song of Gil-Galad" (1.5 minutes):

Strider sings of the elven knight Gil-Galad.

"Song of the Troll" (4.5 minutes): Julian Boyce

Sam (with the help of Merry and Pippin) sings a song about a troll after seeing the stone trolls of Bilbo's adventures in "The Hobbit".

"Song of the Blessed Realm" (3 minutes): Louise Ratcliffe/Angharad Morgan

Lindir, in Rivendell, sings a song in celebration of Elbereth.

"Boromir's Dream" (1 minute):

Boromir recounts the dream he had telling him to go to Rivendell.


"Farewell to Lorien" (6 minutes): Angharad Morgan

Galadriel bids farewell to the remaining fellowship as they head south away from Lothlorien.

"Song of the Fisherman" (1.5 minutes):

Gollum singing to himself at the Forbidden Pool.

"The Ride of The Rohirrim" (3 minutes): Simon Crosby Buttle/Julian Boyce

The men of Rohan sing whilst on approach to defend Minas Tirith.


"Song of the Prisoner" (3.5 minutes): Julian Boyce

Sam, alone in search of Frodo in Cirith Ungol sings this song to give him courage to go on.

"To The Fields of Cormallen" (12 minutes): Angharad Morgan/Louise Ratcliffe/Simon Crosby Buttle/Julian Boyce

Faramir and Eowyn, alone in the houses of healing begin their romance.  This heads into the following scene where the heroes return to Minas Tirith and the war against Sauron is ended.


"Song of the Eagle" (3 minutes):

An eagle soaring above Minas Tirith sings of the glorious days to come.

"Burial Song" (4 minutes): Simon Crosby Buttle/Julian Boyce

The funeral procession of King Théoden.

"Bilbo's song of Farewell" (2 minutes):

A now aged Bilbo prepares for his journey across the sea.

"The Grey Havens" (25 minutes): Angharad Morgan/Simon Crosby Buttle

These scene starts with Frodo transcribing his adventures and then goes all the way to the end with him, Bilbo, Gandalf and the remaining elves boarding the ships and heading west.

For more information and analysis please visit the composer's website (link at the bottom of this page)


Texts are employed by permission of the estate of the late John Ronald Reuel Tolkien and HarperCollinsPublishers for use by Paul Corfield Godfrey.


The libretto for these works is compiled from The Lord of the Rings.

The Long-expected Party


Scene One

The Ivy Bush, a small inn on the Bywater Road The interior is filled with smoke and laughter. An old gaffer is holding forth upon some topic in one corner; his audience are attentive but sceptical.


A very nice well-spoken gentle­hobbit is Mister Bilbo Baggins, as I’ve always said.


But what about this Frodo that lives with him?

Baggins is his name, but he’s more than half a Brandybuck, they say.

It beats me why any Baggins of Hobbiton should go looking for a wife away there in Buckland, where folks are so queer.



And no wonder they’re queer, if they live on the wrong side of the Brandywine River, and right agin the Old Forest.

That’s a dark bad place, if half the tales be true.



You’re right, Dad!...not that the Bucklanders live  in  the   Old   Forest; but they’re a queer breed, seemingly.

They fool about with boats on that big river; and that ain’t natural.

But be that as it may, Mister Frodo is as nice a young hobbit as you could wish to meet.

Very much like Mister Bilbo, and in more than looks. After all his father was a Baggins.

A decent respectable hobbit was Mister Drogo Baggins, and there was never much to tell of him, till he was drownded.


The STRANGER [most surprised]



Well, so they say. You see: Mister Drogo, he married poor Miss Primula Brandybuck.

She was our Mister Bilbo’s first cousin on the mother’s side, her mother being the youngest of the Old. Took’s daughters,

and Mister Drogo was his second cousin; so Mister Frodo is his first and second cousin,

once removed either way, as the saying is, if you follow me.

And Mister Drogo was staying at Brandy Hall with his father-in-law, old Master Gorbadoc,

as he often did after his marriage (him being partial to his vittles, and old Gorbadoc keeping a mighty fine table),

and he went out boating on the Brandywine River; and he and his wife were drownded,

and poor Mister Frodo only a child and all.


I heard they went on the water after dinner by moonlight, and it was Drogo’s weight as sunk the boat.


And I heard she pushed him in, and he pulled her in after him.

HAM GAMGEE [somewhat shocked]

You shouldn’t listen to all you hear, Sandyman. There ain’t no call to go talking of pushing and pulling.

Boats are quite tricky enough for those as sit still without looking further for the cause of the trouble.

Anyway: there was this Mister Frodo left an orphan and stranded, as the saying is, among those queer Bucklanders,

being brought up anyhow in Brandy Hall.

A regular warren, by all accounts. Old Master Gorbadoc never had fewer than a couple of hundred relations in the place.

Mister Bilbo never did a kinder deed that when he brought the lad back to live among decent folk.

But I reckon it was a nasty shock for those Sackville-Bagginses.

They thought they was going to get Bag End, that time when he went off and was thought to be dead.

And then he comes back and orders them off, and he goes on living and living, and never looking a day older, bless him!

And suddenly he produces an heir, and has all the papers made out proper.

The Sackville-Bagginses won’t never see the inside of Bag End now, or ’tis to be hoped not.


There’s a tidy bit of money stacked away up there, I hear tell.

All the top of your Hill is full of tunnels packed with chests of gold and silver, and jools, by what I’ve heard.


Then you’ve heard more than I can speak to; I know nothing about jools.

Mister Bilbo is free with his money, and there seems no end of it; but I know of no tunnel-making.

But my lad Sam will know more about that. He’s in and out of Bag End.

Crazy about stories of the old days he is, and he listens to all Mister Bilbo’s tales.

Mister Bilbo has learned him his letters—meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope none will come of it.

Elves and Dragons! I says to him. Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you.

Don’t go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you’ll land in trouble too big for you, I says to him.

And I might say it to others, too.

He looks sharply at Sandyman, and there is general laughter.


Ah, but he has likely been adding to what he brought at first. He’s often away from home.

And look at the outlandish folk that visit him: dwarves coming at night, and that old wandering conjuror Gandalf and all.

You can say what you like, Gaffer, but Bag End’s a queer place, and its folk are queerer.


And you can say what you like, about what you know no more of than you do of boating, Mister Sandyman.

If that’s being queer, then we could do with a bit more queerness in these parts.

There’s some not far away that wouldn’t offer a pint of beer to a friend, if they lived in a hole with golden walls.

But they do things proper in Bag End.

Our Sam says that everyone’s going to be invited to the party,

and there’s going to be a feast, mark you, a feast for all—this very Thursday as is.

The inner curtain falls, cutting off the scene. Before the curtain the stage is in darkness.


Scene Two

Suddenly through the inner curtain there appears a gaudy display of flowers, as if in a garden. The light falls through the curtain as if through a window, and illuminates the figures of Gandalf and Bilbo sitting looking out of it into the garden.


How bright your garden looks!


Yes. I am very fond of it, and of all the dear old Shire; but I think I need a holiday.


You mean to go on with your plan, then?


Yes. I made up my mind months ago, and I haven’t changed it.


Very well. It is no good saying more. Stick to your plan—the whole plan, mind

and I hope it will turn out the best, for you, and for all of us.


I hope so. Anyway I mean to enjoy myself on Thursday, and have my little joke.


Who will laugh, I wonder?


We shall see.

The light on the two figures at the front fades. At the same time the light on the other side of the inner curtain grows, and the flowers transform themselves into a sheaf of cut blossoms hanging above the table in the following scene. When the light has grown fully behind it, the inner curtain rises.


Scene Three

The next evening. Bilbo is presiding at table, whereat sit one hundred and forty-four hobbits, including Odo Proudfoot, Everard Took, Melilot Brandybuck, Otho and Lotho Sackville-Baggins, Rory Brandybuck, Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took, Frodo Baggins and Fredegar Bolger. They are all eating and drinking merrily. Bilbo rises for a speech. Some of the hobbits, and especially the Sackville-Bagginses, sit back with looks of boredom.


My dear people...

Cries of  Hear,  hear!,  laughter and  cheers interrupt him. Bilbo pauses, smiling, and puts one hand in his trouser pocket before beginning again.


My dear Bagginses and Boffins: and my dear Tooks and Brandybucks, and Grubbs and Chubbs, and Burrowses and Hornblowers,

and Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots...




Proudfoots. Also my good Sackville­-Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag End.

Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday: I am eleventy-one today!

Shouts of Hooray!, Many happy returns!, etc., also stamps and claps as before



I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am.

Shouts of Yes (and No). Noises of trumpets and horns, pipes and flutes, and other musical instruments: crackers are pulled. Everard Took begins to make arrangements for an impromptu musical evening, and he and Melilot Brandybuck, being somewhat inebriated, start to dance merrily on the table. Bilbo stares aghast for a moment; then, grabbing a horn, he blows three loud toots. There is silence.



I shall not keep you long.

An ironic cheer arises from some of the guests.


I have called you together for a purpose: indeed, for three purposes.

First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all,

and that eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent hobbits.

Cheers of approval, calls of Hear, hear!, etc.


I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

LOBELIA [aside to Otho]

Is that a compliment or not?


Secondly, to celebrate my birthday. I should say: our birthday.

For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today.


Silly old fool! Why doesn’t he get it over with? And what on earth does he mean by coming into his inheritance?


Together we score one hundred and forty-four.

Your numbers were chosen to fit this remarkable total: one Gross, if I may use the expression.


I suppose we were invited to fill up the number!


One Gross, indeed! Vulgar expression!


It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake;

though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion.

The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had in fact a bad cold at the time, I remember,

and could not say much except Thag you very buch.

I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party.

He draws himself up and speaks loudly; everyone sits up who still can.


Thirdly and finally, I wish to make an announcement.

I regret to announce that—though, as I said,

one  hundred and eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you—this is the end. I am going.

I am going now. Goodbye!

There is a flash. When it clears, Bilbo has totally vanished. There is a gasp. Odo Proudfoot stamps his feet impatiently. And then everyone starts talking at once.



Very bad taste!



He’s mad. I always said so.



Absurd behaviour.



Ridiculous prank.



What fun!



Isn’t it?



I’m not so sure. There’s something fishy in this. I believe that Mad Baggins is off again.

But why worry? He hasn’t taken the vittles with him. Come on, Frodo! More food, more drink!


Frodo nods to the waiters, who serve food and drink to the guests. As he passes out from the tent, the light rapidly fades and the inner curtain descends.

Bilbo’s walking song


BILBO [turns and passes quickly from the room. His voice is heard outside]

The Road goes ever on and on

down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone

and I must follow, if I can,

pursuing it with weary feet

until it joins some larger way

where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.


Drinking song


Pippin and Sam  lie back on the bank and begin to sing softly.


Ho! ho! ho! to the bottle I go to heal my heart and drown my woe.

Rain may fall and wind may blow, and many miles be still to go,

but under a tall tree will I lie and let the clouds go sailing by.

Ho! ho! ho!

Suddenly they are interrupted by a shrill cry of horror from the road, the cry of some evil and lonely creature. All lie still, petrified.


Tom Bombadil


The Curtain rises to show a pattern of shifting trees. The four hobbits are seen making their way through the Old Forest. It seems that they try to make their way through towards the back; but always the trees force them on across the scene. Towards the end of the prelude the lights behind the inner curtain rise, and the scene at the front fades and vanishes.


Scene One

The scene disclosed is a river bank concealed by mists and reeds. The main part of the stage is a wide bank above the river, with a great willow tree extended over the sward. From behind this great tree the four hobbits come forward, with Merry leading and obviously relieved.


Well, now at least I have some idea of where we are! This is the River Withywindle.


But we can’t go another step without rest.


It’s cool under the willow. Less flies!


Come on! We can’t have a nap yet. We must get clear of the forest first.


Must have a nap…

He, Pippin and Sam lie down beneath the great tree, with their backs to cracks running up its trunk. Frodo looks at them for a moment, and then sleep suddenly seems to overwhelm him. He staggers, and in that moment the tree suddenly moves towards him with menace. At the same time the cracks in its trunk close around the three sleepers, and Frodo suddenly screams.


Help! help! help!

Again he staggers, as sleep seems to overwhelm him. At that moment there comes a voice singing from along the river.


TOM BOMBADIL [very distant]

Hey dol, merry dol, ring a ding dillo! Ring a dong, hop along, fal lal the willow!

Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!

All the forest suddenly becomes still, as if under a spell of silence. The voice slowly draws nearer; Frodo stirs and starts as if awakening from a dream.


Hey come merry dol, derry dol, my darling!

Light goes the weather wind and the feathered starling.

Down along under hill, shining in the sunlight,

there my pretty lady is, River-woman’s daughter,

slender as the willow wand, clearer than the water.

Old Tom Bombadil water-lilies bringing comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?

Hey come merry dol, derry dol and merry oh,

Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry oh!

Poor old Willow Man, you tuck your roots away!

Tom’s in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.

Tom’s going home again water-lilies bringing.

Hey! come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?

He comes onto the stage, dancing and singing to himself as he does so. Frodo rushes towards him.





Whoa, whoa! steady there! Now, my little fellow, where be you a-going to, puffing like a bellows?

What’s the matter here then? Do you know who I am? I’m Tom Bombadil.

Tell we what’s your trouble! Tom’s in a hurry now. Don’t you crush my lilies!


My friends are caught in the willow tree!


What? Old Man Willow? Naught worse than that, eh? That can soon be mended. I know the tune for him.

Old grey Willow Man! I’ll freeze his marrow cold, if he doesn’t behave himself.

I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow branch and leaf away.

He strides up to the tree, and breaking off a hanging branch lashes the trunk of the tree with it.


You let them out again, Old Man Willow! What be you a-thinkin’ of?

You should not be waking. Eat earth! Dig deep! Drink water! Go to sleep, Old Man Willow! Bombadil is talking!

There is a sudden crack and the trunk splits open, releasing the imprisoned hobbits. A shudder runs through the willow from root to tip, and a complete silence falls.


Well, my little fellows! You shall come home with me.

The table is all laden with white bread and butter. Goldberry is waiting.

Time enough for questions around the supper table. You follow after me as fast as you are able!

With a sudden leap and bound he rushes dancing away along the path. The hobbits look at each other with blank amazement. His voice is heard, already far in the distance.


Hop along, my little friends, up with Withywindle!

Tom’s going on ahead candles for to kindle.

Down west sinks the sun; soon you will be groping.

When the night shadows fall, then the door will open,

out of the window panes light will twinkle yellow.

Fear no alder black! Heed no hoary willow!

Fear neither root nor bough! Tom goes on before you.

Hey now! merry dol! we’ll be waiting for you!

The light fades quickly, and the inner curtain falls. Before this the scene appears with the trees moving as in the prelude; but now the movement becomes a dance of great shadows. The four hobbits hurry along, at the front of the stage, while the scene moves past them. Then there appears a light through the inner curtain, and the voice of Tom Bombadil is heard.



Hey come derry dol, hop along my hearties!

Come on then, hobbits all! we are fond of parties.

Now let the song begin! Let us sing together!


Now let the song begin! Let us sing together

of sun, stars, moon and mist, rain and cloudy weather,

light on the budding leaf, dew on the feather,

wind on the open hill, bells on the heather,

reeds by the shady pool, lilies on the water;

old Tom Bombadil and the River-daughter!


The lights rise as the inner curtain dissolves.

Scene Two

A woodland glade is disclosed, lit by lamps hanging from high  branches.   In  this  glade  stand  Tom  Bombadil  and Goldberry. Frodo and the hobbits come forward into the light, and Frodo halts in amazement.


O slender as a willow-wand! O clearer than clear water!

O reed by the living pool, fair River-daughter!

O springtime and summertime, and spring again after!

O wind on the waterfall, and the leaves’ laughter!


Have peace now until the morning! Heed no nightly noises!

For nothing passes door and window here save moonlight and starlight and the wind off the hill-top.

The light again grows dim, and the hobbits lie down to sleep. Tom Bombadil remains watching over them for a while in silence; then, as the light fades, he speaks to them.


The sun will rise tomorrow; ’twill be a glad morning. But keep well to the green grass.

Don’t you go a-meddling with old stone or cold Wights or prying in their houses,

unless you be strong folk with hearts that never falter!

And if you fall in difficulty, sing and call to me:

Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo!

by water, wood and hill, by reed and willow,

by fire, sun and moon, hearken now and hear us!

Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!

He fades into the darkness; all that can be seen are the forms of the slumbering hobbits. Slowly there appears a distant vision above their forms. The moon appears to rise; and in its light there appears a tall pinnacle of rock, with a man seated upon its highest point. Suddenly a shadow like the shape of great wings passes over the scene. There is a noise like a strong wind blowing, and a sound of distant hoofbeats. The vision fades and darkness covers the scene. In the darkness the inner curtain falls.

TOM BOMBADIL [behind the scene]

Ring a ding dillo! Wake now, my merry friends!

Ring a ding dillo, derry dol, my hearties!

Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;

bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow!

GOLDBERRY [behind the scene]

Speed now, fair guests! and hold to your purpose!

North with the wind to the left eye, and a blessing on your footsteps! Make haste while the Sun shines!

It was a merry meeting!

Her voice fades into the darkness and slowly becomes inaudible. At the same time the inner curtain rises.


Scene Three

The scene is completely filled with mist. The four hobbits are seen groping their way forward through the fogs. But Frodo, who is leading, pushes on too quickly, and the others suddenly vanish into the vapour. Frodo walks on a few paces further, and then suddenly stops.


Sam! Pippin! Merry! Come along! Why don’t you keep up?


There is no answer. He rushes back and calls again


Where are you?

Again there is no answer. He comes back towards the centre. At the same time the mists begin to lift, and a tall standing stone appears, looming high over him.


Where are you?

The BARROW-WIGHT [its voice seeming to come from the stone]

Here!...I am waiting for you!

FRODO [crying out]


Sudden total darkness descends across the scene; the lights in the orchestra go out. The inner curtain falls again.


Scene Four

Before the inner curtain the light grows: a pale greenish sort of light. A long tomb-like chamber extends across the stage. In this tomb there are four biers, and on each of these lie the four hobbits: Frodo to the left, and Sam, Merry and  Pippin  to  the  right.  All lie  on  their backs, and   their faces are pale, and they are clad in white. On their heads are circlets, and there are swords at their sides. But across their three necks lies one naked sword. Frodo stirs restlessly and draws one hand across his eyes. At the same time a voice is heard from below the ground.


Cold be heart and hand and bone, and cold be sleep under stone:

never more to wake on stony bed, never, till the Sun falls and the Moon is dead.

In the black wind the stars shall die, and still on stone here let them lie,

till the Dark Lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land.

Frodo raises his head and looks behind him. A long arms gropes across the stage, walking on its fingers towards Sam, who lies nearest, and towards the hilt of the sword which lies across the necks of the three hobbits. Frodo suddenly starts up, seizing a sword that lies by him, and strikes off the hand near the wrist. The hand breaks off, there is a shriek, and the light vanishes. In the dark there comes a snarling noise.

FRODO [with great voice and enthusiasm]

Ho! Tom Bombadil, Tom Bombadillo!

by water, wood and hill, by reed and willow,

by fire, sun and moon, hearken now and hear us!

Come, Tom Bombadil, for our need is near us!

There is a moment’s silence; and then a voice can be heard in the distance, drawing rapidly nearer.



Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;

bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.

None has ever caught him yet, for Tom he is the master;

his songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster.

There is a loud rumbling noise, as of stones rolling and falling; and suddenly a low door-like opening appears, through which the bright sunlight streams into the tomb. In it is seen Tom Bombadil, silhouetted against the door. He comes forward into the dark chamber, singing.



Get you out, you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight!

Shrivel like the cold mist, like the winds go wailing

out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!

Come never here again! Leave your barrow empty!

Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness,

where gates stand for ever shut, till the world is mended.

At these words there comes a cry, and part of the chamber falls in with a crash. The cry dies away into a long trailing shriek, fading away into an unguessable distance. And then there is silence.



Wake now, my merry lads! wake and hear me calling!

Warm now be heart and limb! the cold stone is broken,

dark door is standing wide, dead hand is fallen,

Night under Night has flown, and the Gate is open!

Sam, Merry and Pippin stir slowly. Then they sit up and look in wonder at their surroundings, and then at themselves.


What in the name of wonder?...Of course, I remember!

The men of Carn Dûm came on us in the night, and we were worsted.

Ah! the spear in my breast! No! no!...What am I saying? I have been dreaming. Where did you get to, Frodo?


I thought that I was lost; but I don’t want to speak of it. Let us think of what we are to do now!

Tom reaches to lift up the swords which had lain by the hobbits.


Sharp blades are good to have, if hobbits go a-wandering east, south or far away, into dark and danger.

Few now remember them, yet still some go wandering, the men of  Westernesse who forged these blades,

sons of forgotten kings walking in loneliness, guarding from evil folk that are heedless.

In the darkness there appears a vision: a vast plain over which there stride shapes of men, tall and grim with bright swords. And last comes a man later to be known to them as the King Elessar: and he bears a star on his brow. The hobbits look on uncomprehendingly, and the vision fades.


Bombadil will give you clothes, and good advice, till this day is over.

Four miles hence along the road you’ll come upon a village, Bree under Bree Hill, with doors looking westward.

There you’ll find an old inn that is called The Prancing Pony; Barliman Butterbur is the worthy keeper.

There you can stay the night, but afterwards the morning will speed you upon your way.

Keep up your merry hearts, and go to meet your fortune!


It may be all that we could wish, but remember, please—that the name of Baggins must not be mentioned.

I am Mister Underhill, if any name must be given.


Hey now, come now! whither do you wander?

Up, down, near or far, here, there or yonder?

Tom’s country ends here; he will not pass the borders.

He has his house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting!

Frodo and the hobbits bid him farewell with silent bows. The inner curtain has grown lighter and now rises to disclose the bright sunlight playing on the downs. As the hobbits pass down across the plain, Tom Bombadil stands watching them, silhouetted as a black shadow against the light. The curtain falls.


FRODO [opens the letter and begins to read]

…His real name is Aragorn.

All that is gold does not glitter,

not all those who wander are lost;

the old that is strong does not wither,

deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes afire shall be woken,

a light from the shadows shall spring;

renewed shall be blade that was broken,

the crownless again shall be king.

He pauses, turning the letter over and over in his hands and considering carefully.


Song of Gil-Galad



Gil-galad was an Elvenking, of him the harpers sadly sing;

the last whose realm was fair and free beneath the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen, his shining helm afar was seen;

the countless stars of heaven’s field were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say;

for into darkness fell his star in Mordor where the shadows are.


Song of the Troll


Frodo lies listlessly on the ground as Sam sings in an attempt to raise his spirits, accompanied by Merry and Pippin



Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, and munched and mumbled a bare old bone;

for many a year he had gnawed it near, for meat was hard to come by.



Done by! Gum by!


In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, and meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on. Said he to Troll: Pray, what is yon?

For it looks like the shin o’ my nuncle Tim, as should be a-lyin’ in graveyard.


Caveyard! Paveyard!


This many a year has Tim been gone, and I thought he were lyin’ in graveyard.

My lad, says Troll, this bone I stone, but what be bones that lie in a hole?

Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o’ lead, afore I found his shinbone.


Tinbone! Thinbone!


He can spare a share for a poor old troll, for he don’t need his shinbone.

Said Tom: I don’t see why the likes o’ thee without axin’ leave should go makin’ free

with the shank and shin o’ my father’s kin, so hand the old bone over!



Rover! Trover!



Though dead he be, it belongs to he; so hand the old bone over!

For a couple of pins, says Troll, and grins, I’d eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.

A bit o’ fresh meat will go down sweet! I’ll try my teeth on thee now.



Hee now! See now!



I’m tired o’ gnawing old bones and skins; I’ve a mind to dine on thee now.

But just as he thought his dinner was caught, he found his hands had caught hold of naught.

Before he could stand, Tom slipped behind and gave him the boot to larn him.


Warn him! Darn him!


A bump o’ the boot on the seat, Tom thought, would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone of a troll that sits in the hills alone;

as well set your boot to the mountain’s root, for the seat of a troll don’t feel it.


Peel it! Heel it!


Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan, and he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom’s leg is lame, since home he came, and his bootless foot is lasting lame;

but Troll don’t care, and he’s still there with the bone he boned from its owner.


Doner! Boner!


Troll’s old seat is still the same, and the bone he boned from its owner!

The three hobbits laugh and applaud, but Frodo remains still and unhearing. Strider goes quickly to him and raises him. They support him from the clearing, Sam now caring and concerned, as the light fades.


Song of the Blessed Realm

Bilbo leaves the circle and comes forward to Frodo, clasping him round the shoulders; the latter rises, and the two steal gently out into the moonlit valley together. The circle of fire glows gently as Lindir rises and sings.


A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna-míriel o menel aglar elenath!

                                                      O Elbereth Starkindler, white glittering, slanting down sparkling like a jewel, the glory of the starry host!

Na chaered palan-díriel o galadhremmin ennorath,

                                                      Having gazed far away from the tree-woven lands of Middle-Earth

Fanuilos, le linnathon nef aear, sí nef aearon!

                                                      To thee, Everwhite, I will sing, on this side of the Sea, here on this side of the Ocean!


Fanuilos, Gilthoniel, A Elbereth...

The light fades slowly away.

Boromir’s dream



Seek for the Sword that was broken; in Imladris it dwells.

There shall be counsels taken stronger than mortal spells.

There shall be shown a sign that Doom is near at hand,

for Isildur’s Bane shall awaken, and the halfling forth shall stand.

Farewell to Lórien


All sit down in the boats, but a deep dusk has set in, and all that can be seen are the Fellowship as shadows in the boats, dark shapes against the pure white light that shines upon and from Galadriel. In this light she lifts up her arms and sings; and in her singing she appears to diminish and shrink ever further into the distance.


Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen, yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

                                                Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind, long years numberless as the wings of trees!

Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier mi oromardi lissë miruvóreva.

                                                The years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead in lofty halls beyond the West,

Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni ómaryo airetári lírinen.

                                                beneath the blue vaults of Varda wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice, holy and queenly.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

                                                Who now shall refill the cup for me?

At this stage she has reached the back of the scene; but still she seems to diminish, until with her last line she vanishes beyond the horizon.


An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;

                                                For now the Kindler, Varda, the Queen of the Stars, from Mount Everwhite has uplifted her hands like clouds,                                                     and all paths are drowned deep in shadow;

ar sindanóriello caita mornië i falmalinnar imbë met, ar hísië untúpa Calciryo míri oilalë.

                                                and out of a grey country darkness lies on the foaming waves between us, and mist covers the jewels of                                                               Calacirya for ever.

Sí vanwar ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!

                                                Now lost, lost to those from the East is Valimar!

Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar. Nai elyë hurivar.  Namárië!

                                                Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!

At the last word she vanishes into the distance, and the light goes out. But the ships of the boats and their burden remain silhouetted at the front of the stage, until after a long while the Curtain falls.


Song of the Fisherman

From the gully Gollum’s voice can be heard. As his song progresses this grows steadily fainter and finally fades away. At the same time dark green fumes rise up and veil the stage. They swirl across the stage, becoming gradually darker.


Alive without breath, as cold as death;

never thirsty, ever drinking, clad in mail never clinking.

Drowns on dry land, thinks an island is a mountain;

thinks a fountain is a puff of air.

So sleek, so fair! What a joy to meet!

We only wish to catch a fish, so juicy-sweet!

The stage is totally obscured and darkened.


The Ride of the Rohirrim


The Curtain rises. Only a dim light is visible; and through it, it seems that one sees a large company of horsemen riding at speed.

VOICES OF MEN [behind the scenes]

From dark Dunharrow in the dim morning with thane and captain rode Thengel’s son;

to Edoras he came, the ancient halls of the Mark-wardens mist-enshrouded.

Farewell he bade to his free people, hearth and high-seat, and the hallowed places

where long he had feasted ere the light faded. Forth rode the king, fear behind him, fate before him.

Fealty kept he; oaths he had taken, all fulfilled them.

Forth rode Théoden. Five nights and days eastward and onward rode the Eorlingas

through Folde and Fenmarch and the Firienwood, six thousand spears to Sunlending,

Mundburg the mighty under Mindolluin, Sea King’s city in the South-kingdom,

foe-beleaguered, fire-encircled. Doom drove them on.

Darkness took them, horse and horseman; hoofbeats after sank into silence.

So the songs tell us.

Towards the end of this passage the light begins to fade, and finally total darkness covers the scene. The inner curtain rises.

Song of the Prisoner


The light quickly fades at the back, only a dim red light failing on Sam himself. He begins to sing gently, his head still in his hands, and then he raises his head defiantly, and sings loudly through the empty corridors of the Tower.


In Western lands beneath the sun the flowers may rise in spring.

The trees may bud, the waters run,the merry finches sing.

Or there maybe ’tis cloudless night and swaying beeches bear

the elven-stars as jewels bright beneath their branching hair.

Into the darkness behind him, the inner curtain falls.


Though here at journey’s end I lie in darkness buried deep,

beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep,

beyond all shadows rides the Sun, and stars for ever dwell.

I will not say the day is done, nor bid the stars farewell.


He stops suddenly short. In the distance, very weakly, can be heard the sound of an answering voice

To the Field of Cormallen


FARAMIR [stilly]

It reminds me of Númenor.


Of Númenor?


Yes; of the land of Westernesse that foundered,

and of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills,

and coming on, darkness unescapable. I often dream of it.

ÉOWYN [drawing unknowingly closer to him]

Then you think that darkness is coming? Darkness unescapable?

FARAMIR [looking into her face with passion]

No; I do not know what is happening.

The reason of my waking mind tells me that great evil has befallen and we stand at the end of days.

But my heart says nay; and all my limbs are light, and a hope and a joy are come to me that no reason can deny.

Éowyn, Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in this hour I do not believe that any darkness will endure!


I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun, and behold! the Shadow has departed!

I will be a shield-maiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying.

I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren!

And they turn towards one another, and embrace high above the world. The light behind the inner curtain rises as the mountains of shadow disappear, and silhouette the two figures with sunlight. Slowly the light fades, and the inner curtain becomes again opaque. But the light continues to shine with a steady golden glow upon the scene. On the front stage light grows again, and slowly the scene before the inner curtain is illuminated. Gandalf stands in the centre of the stage; on his right hand is Frodo, and on his left is Sam. They all three face towards the back. From behind the inner curtain the voices of men are heard.

Voices of MEN

Long live the Halflings!...Praise them with great  praise!...

Cuio  i  Pheriain annan!...Aglar’ni Pheriannath!...

Praise them with great praise, Frodo and Samwise!...

Daur a Berhael, Conin en Annûn!...Eglerio!

The inner curtain of gold slowly begins to dissolve, and the scene behind is gradually revealed. In a throne at the head of the stage sits Aragorn, and around him are gathered Legolas and Gimli, Elladan and Elrohir, Halbarad and Imrahil, Éomer and Ingold. A minstrel stands above the throne. And Aragorn descends from the throne to meet them, and takes Frodo by the hand and leads him to the throne; and Gandalf takes Sam and leads him also thither; and the hobbits are seated, and Gandalf and Aragorn kneel before them. They then rise and turn to the throng.


Praise them with great praise!


Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unshamed, kings and princes and fair people of Gondor,

and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf,

and great-hearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West,

now listen to my lay. For I will sing of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.

SAM [from the throne]

O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!


Praise them with great praise!


Praise them with great praise!

The golden light floods the stage as all the company go on their knees before the throne. The curtain falls.


Song of the Eagle


The curtain rises to show a pattern of high drifting clouds, lit by the glow of the setting sun. A long silence. Light shafts through the mist to illumine a great golden Eagle floating in mid-air.


Sing and be glad, ye people of the Tower of Anor,

for the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever,

and the Dark Tower is thrown down.

Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Tower of Guard,

for your watch hath not been in vain,

and the Black Gate is broken,

and your King hath passed through, and he is victorious.

Sing and be glad, all ye children of the West,

for your King shall come again,

and he shall dwell among you all the days of your life.

And the Tree that was withered shall be renewed,

and he shall plant it in the high places, and the City shall be blessed.

Sing, all ye people!

MEN and WOMEN [behind the scenes]

Sing, all ye people!


The stage darkens

Burial Song


The scene is at first covered in mist; but slowly this is dispersed by the rising sun. When it has finally cleared, there will be seen a barrow opened to the light. At first little can be seen, but the voices of men are heard in the distance.


Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day’s rising

he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.

A slow procession enters, bearing with them the body of King Théoden on a bier

Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended; over death, over dread, over doom lifted out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

The body is brought forward and laid into the barrow

Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day’s rising

he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.

MERRY [approaching the open grave]

Théoden King, Théoden King!

RIDERS of ROMAN [withdrawing]

Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended...


As a father you were to me, for a little while.


...over death, over dread, over doom lifted...


Farewell! Farewell!


...out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

The chant loses itself in the distance, and the mists again cover the scene. Darkness falls.



Bilbo’s song of farewell


The scene is empty, only the stars appearing in the darkness. Bilbo’s voice rises from below, fading gradually into the dusk and the distance.


The road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone, let others follow it who can!

But I at last with weary feet will turn towards the lighted inn,

my evening-rest and sleep to meet...


His voice fades away, and there is silence and stillness. The stars shine brightly. The Curtain slowly falls.



The Grey Havens


Frodo remains seated in his chair; slowly the light fades.  Sam comes gently into the room.


What is the matter, Mister Frodo?


I am wounded, wounded… It will never really heal…

Again he fingers the white jewel of Arwen.


It is gone for ever, and now all is dark and empty…

Sam moves across the room towards him as the light fades.  In the darkness the inner curtain falls. Shadows of great trees are thrown onto the scene, slowly becoming more distinct.  The light returns, and Frodo and Sam are seen walking through the moonlit woods.  Frodo halts in thought and sings softly to himself.


Still round the corner there may wait a new road or a secret gate;

and though I oft have passed them by,

the day may come at last when I shall take the hidden paths that run

west of the Moon, east of the Sun.

A small chorus of voices is heard behind the scene.  At the sound of the distant Elvish choir, Frodo and Sam stand listening in rapt enchantment.

Voices of ELVES 

A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna-míriel o menel aglar elenath! Gilthoniel!

                                                      O Elbereth Starkindler, white glittering, slanting down sparkling like a jewel, the glory of the starry host!


A Elbereth!

A glimmer of light through the trees is seen, coming ever nearer.

Voices of ELVES

We still remember, we who dwell in this far land beneath the trees, the starlight on the Western Seas.

Further lights are seen as there enters through the woods an Elven procession, led by Galdor.  And there to the wonder of Frodo and Sam ride Elrond and Galadriel; and by their side, transfigured through the agedness of his features, comes Bilbo.  They pause, and Elrond looks at them.  As if inspired by an unheard command, Frodo steps forward to join the procession.

SAM [crying out]  

Where are you going, master?


To the Havens, Sam…

I tried to save the world, and it has been saved, but not for me.

It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger;

someone has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them. 

Do not be too sad, Sam.  Your time will come.  You cannot always be torn in two. 

You will have to be one and whole, for many years; you have so much to enjoy, and to be, and to do. 

For the Third Age is over, and the days of the Rings are passed, and an end is come of the story of these times. 

Come now, ride with me!

Sam now steps forward to join him, and the procession moves on as the light fades. In the darkness the inner curtain has risen again, to show the scene totally covered in mist.  Light shines through this and, as the mists disperse,  a  great  ship is dimly seen lying at anchor in the water.   On the shore,     by the anchor,  there sits on a great stone Círdan the Shipwright. As the mists lift still further, then can be seen standing beyond him the Elven company with Frodo and Sam; and beyond them there stands a tall cloaked figure as yet indiscernible. As this figure moves forward, the Shipwright rises and lifts the anchor.


All now is ready.

And the tall figure is seen by all to be Gandalf, who comes forward towards the front of the stage. All the Elves go on board; at last only Elrond, Galadriel, Sam, Frodo and Círdan remain towards the front. Gandalf then turns to them.


Well, my dear friends, here at last comes the end  of  our  Fellowship on the shores of  Middle-earth. 

Go in peace!  I will not say, Do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

And then he and Galadriel and Elrond join hands, and displayed on their fingers are seen the three Rings of the Elves. And Frodo raises his own hand with the nine fingers before them, and leads them on into the shadowy vessel. Sam and Círdan alone remain on shore; and the mists swirl once again across the stage.  All that can be seen is the great ship moving on its way across the seas.   Slowly there appears over the water a faint light, and with it is heard the sound of voices singing. And then it appears that the grey rain-curtain turns all to silver glass, and is rolled back; and there are seen beyond white shores, and beyond them a green country under a swift sunrise. In the distance great lights shine, piercing the lingering mists as the curtain falls.

Demo Recording Information

The recording is being produced using Reaper software and is utilising the Eastwest Software/Quantum Leap Symphonic Orchestra sampled instruments.

The solo parts will all be recorded using different professional singers with some doubling.

The Chorus will be recorded two per voice part, as per Gondolin, Beren, Hurin and Feanor which would accommodate the splits in the parts.  Each of these voices, due to the limited space and equipment, is recorded individually and post processed to fit with the others.  This is the method we use when creating learning tracks for choirs, as it gives us the opportunity to isolate parts and fix problems without having to have everyone back to re-record.


16/02/2020: This webpage updated to the new format for this release - more information will come as soon!

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