hobbit

So they sang as first one barrel and then another rumbled to the dark opening and was
pushed over into the cold water some feet below. Some were barrels really empty, some
were tubs neatly packed with a dwarf each; but down they all went, one after another,
with many a clash and a bump, thudding on top of ones below, smacking into the water,
jostling against the walls of the tunnel, knocking into one another, and bobbing away
down the current.
It was just at this moment that Bilbo suddenly discovered the weak point in his plan.
Most likely you saw it some time ago and have been laughing at him; but I don't suppose
you would have done half as well yourselves in his place. Of course he was not in a
barrel himself, nor was there anyone to pack him in, even if there had been a chance! It
looked as if he would certainly lose his friends this time (nearly all of them had already
disappeared through the dark trap-door), and get utterly left behind and have to stay
lurking as a permanent burglar in the elf-caves for ever. For even if he could have
escaped through the upper gates at once, he had precious small chance of ever finding
the dwarves again. He did not know the way by land to the place where the barrels were
collected. He wondered what on earth would happen to them without him; for he had not
had time to tell the dwarves all that he had learned, or what he had meant to do, once
they were out of the wood. While all these thoughts were passing through his mind, the
elves being very merry began to sing a song round the river-door. Some had already
gone to haul on the ropes which pulled up the portcullis at the water-gate so as to let out
the barrels as soon as they were all afloat below.
"Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!
Leave the halls and caverns deep,
Leave the northern mountains steep,
Where the forest wide and dim
Stoops in shadow grey and grim!
Float beyond the world of trees
Out into the whispering breeze,
Past the rushes, past the reeds,
Past the marsh's waving weeds,
Through the mist that riseth white
Up from mere and pool at night!
Follow, follow stars that leap
Up the heavens cold and steep;
Turn when dawn comes over land,
Over rapid, over sand,
South away! and South away!
Seek the sunlight and the day,
Back to pasture, back to mead,
Where the kine and oxen feed!
Back to gardens on the hills
Where the berry swells and fills
Under sunlight, under day!
South away! and South away!
Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once did know!"
Now the very last barrel was being rolled to the doors! In despair and not knowing what
else to do, poor little Bilbo caught hold of it and was pushed over the edge with it. Down