Tom through the window saw waking stars winking,
And the new slender moon early westward sinking.
Dark came under-hill, Tom he lit a candle.
Upstairs creaking went, turned the door handle.
Oh Tom Bombadil, look what Night has brought you.
I am here behind the door, now at last I've caught you!
You've forgotten barrow wight, dwelling in the old mound up here on hilltop with a ring of stones round.
He's got loose again, under earth he'll take you!
Poor Tom Bombadil, pale and cold he'll make you...
Go out, shut the door and never come back after!
Take away gleaming eyes, take your hollow laughter.
Go back to grassy mound, on your stony pillow.
Lay down your bony head like old man willow.
Like young Goldberry and badger-folk in burrow.
Go back to buried gold and forgotten sorrow.
Out fled barrow Wight, through the window leaping.
Through the yard, over wall, like a shadow sweeping.
Uphill wailing went back to leaning stone rings.
Back under lonely mound, rattling his bone rings.