I wrote this myself... it's a version of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, except it's a version changed to describe part of the Hobbit movies (LOTR prequels). I sent it to a friend (he's a professional voice recording dude, he's done commercials and things) who was so impressed he had it recorded for me. Pretty nice :) It is as follows: 'Twas the eve of Durin’s Day, When all through the mountain, Not a creature was stirring, not even a dragon. No plans had been made, no dinner prepared, For no one knew Thorin Oakenshield soon would be there. The dragon was nestled snug in his gold bed, While visions of Arkenstones danced in his head. And Bifur in his long beard, and I in my hat, Had just settled down for a Durin’s Eve nap. When in the stone hall there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the stone door I flew like a flash, Tore into the passage and peered through the hatch. The sun was now setting until it was low, And the moon just peeked out and was shining below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But eleven old Dwarves, who were showing no fear. One looked like he’d just come from a battlefield; I knew in a moment it must be Thorin Oakenshield. More rapid than dragons, the Dwarves, they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: “Now, Balin! Now, Nori! Now, Bombur and Fili! On, Gloin! On, Dwalin! On, Ori and Kili! To the stone door we go, and to the stone hall! Now, find the hole! Find the hole! Find the hole all!” As soldiers that before a stern general drill, Their orders in them did Thorin instill, So they listened and knew what they had to do, The group full of Dwarves, and the strange burglar, too. And then I could hear, from beyond the door, The hacking and sawing of each frustrated Dwarf. As I stepped from the hatch, and was turning around, Into the hall Thorin Oakenshield came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from shoulder to shoulder, And his long, graying hair made him look slightly older. A large, stone key he had gripped in his hand, But why he had come I did not understand. His face—how he frowned! His expression, how scary! With his gruff, Dwarvish features, he looked anything but merry. Just the way he stood made my fear double; How he glanced about made me think I was in trouble. A long, sharp-edged sword he held tight in his fist, And I know if he’d swung at me, he wouldn’t have missed. He had a broad face and flowing black hair, With long streaks of gray only placed here and there. He wasn’t too plump, but not skinny as an Elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A cringe of his eye and a turn of his head Made me want to run and jump right into bed. He went straight down the hall, without making a groan, And soon he returned, holding the Arkenstone. Then laying his hand on the hilt of his sword, He slipped back outside without speaking a word. He sprang back to the door and to me gave a nod, And Bifur and I, we down the mountain trod. And Thorin said, as we walked in the moon’s light, “Happy Durin’s Day to all, and to all a good night.”
