““Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! My darling! Light goes the weather-wind and the feathered starling. Down along under the Hill, shining in the sunlight, Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight, 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-o, Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o! Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away! Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day. Tom'sgoing hom again water lilies-bringing. Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?””
