met on a narrow trail,
one short, one tall, and neither frail.
The wizard flourished his magic staff–
“Now, let me by and don’t be daft!”
The hobbit stood firm, he was no fool–
and that was the start of their magic duel.
bend my back to look up at you,
in your great tall hat of wizardly blue
and dig my toes into the ground,
where a hobbit’s magic’s to be found.
for it’s the magic of growing things,
from soil and water where new life springs–
Can you, in your fine tall wizardy hat,
do anything that’s better than that?
Fires and lights are my domain,
and words to give a balrog pain,
My wisdom and knowledge can out-do yours,
derived from all Middle-earthian lores
But, little Hobbit, I bow to you,
and tip my hat of the sky’s soft hue:
Your magic is better and longer will last
than any of mine, for my time is past.
Companions in peace, they happily stroll,
one to the West, and one to his hole.