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The Sea Bell

an odd and decidedly disturbing shire poem, Number 15 in the adventures of tom bombadil collection. It has been closely associated with frodo baggins and is sometimes subtitled frodo's dreme the dating makes it unlikely but the author shows suprising empathy with the ring bearer and the poem is a suprsing insight into his strange dreams during his last two years in the shire it is very possible frodo wrote the sea bell and the manuscript was later found by one of the fairbair family (who had the red book of westmarnoch) if that is true the poem becomes suddenly and chillingly more clear the narator takes a strange journey across sea where to his anger he finds everything out of his reach, he is unacceptable at the undying lands, and all flee from him in fear....never the less he stays there and no-one talks to him and he grows old and mad, so he forsakes the west and comes back to middle earth where he is but a ghost and is doomed to wander the lands alone forever





all his other dreams came true...the white tower and tree....the rain curtain of mist feeling back.......


so what do you all think, could this person be frodo?

Im not sure, i hope not because why would they recoil in fear?!?!?! Frodo did something so heroic, most of the elves probably never did it. Anyway wouldnt Gandalf and Bilbo still be there for Frodo, and Elrond, Galadriel. I doubt that they would be fearing him. I dont know, what do the rest of you think?

well i would leave him if everyone else on the island did....remember theres valar there veeeeerrrryyyy important people...just like raz

i would take his side and leave........feanor to go insane (the time is near)

well i know the valar are verry important BUT gandalf cared about him a ton and i dont believe Gandalf would let anything happen to him like that. Gandalf is considered pretty important over there too right? I mean Frodo did kinda save the elves butt in a way.

Can you post the poem please?

gandlaf over there...is not exactly too important....its like erm...a forum mod...but only for one board....some people look up to them but the globals and stuff dont really care

true but i doubt frodo would become angry and mad if Gandalf still cared for him ya know? And i know that Bilbo would still be there for Frodo.

bilbo would have died soon....he was VERY old you know


oh and erm...he was unnaccepted there...so he prob lived on the beaches lol, while the rest went inside to the real valinor

Bilbo was old so i get that but what about gandalf. I really dont think he would abandon frodo, even if the others did.

Maybe Bilbo, he always loved the ring and wanted to keep it, so maybe he, finally goes mad ... ?

it's possible that it could be frodo, i'd probably have to read the poem myself before i could make a decision, can anyone post it?

I think this is the poem...


I walked by the sea, and there came to me,
as a star-beam on the wet sand,
a white shell like a sea-bell;
trembling it lay in my wet hand.
In my fingers shaken I heard waken
a ding within, by a harbour bar
a buoy swinging, a call ringing
over endless seas, faint now and far.

Then I saw a boat silently float
on the night-tide, empty and grey.
'It is later than late! Why do we wait?'
I leapt in and cried: 'Bear me away!'

It bore me away, wetted with spray,
wrapped in a mist, wound in a sleep,
to a forgotten strand in a strange land.
In the twilight beyond the deep
I heard a sea-bell swing in the swell,
dinging, dinging, and the breakers roar
on the hidden teeth of a perilous reef;
and at last I came to a long shore.
White it glimmered, and the sea simmered
with star-mirrors in a silver net;
cliffs of stone pale as ruel-bone
in the moon-foam were gleaming wet.
Glittering sand slid through my hand,
dust of pearl and jewel-grist,
trumpels of opal, roses of coral,
flutes of green and amethyst.
But under cliff-eaves there were glooming caves,
weed-curtained, dark and grey;
a cold air stirred in my hair,
and the light waned, as I hurried away.

Down from a hill ran a green rill;
its water I drank to my heart's ease.
Up its fountain-stair to a country fair
of ever-eve I came, far from the seas,
climbing into meadows of fluttering shadows:
flowers lay there like fallen stars,
and on a blue pool, glassy and cool,
like floating moons the nenuphars.
Alders were sleeping, and willows weeping
by a slow river of rippling weeds;
gladdon-swords guarded the fords,
and green spears, and arrow-reeds.

There was echo of song all the evening long
down in the valley; many a thing
running to and fro: hares white as snow,
voles out of holes; moths on the wing
with lantern-eyes; in quiet surprise
brocks were staring out of dark doors.
I heard dancing there, music in the air,
feet going quick on the green floors.
But whenever I came it was ever the same:
the feet fled, and all was still;
never a greeting, only the fleeting
pipes, voices, horns on the hill.

Of river-leaves and the rush-sheaves
I made me a mantle of jewel-green,
a tall wand to hold, and a flag of gold;
my eyes shone like the star-sheen.
With flowers crowned I stood on a mound,
and shrill as a call at cock-crow
proudly I cried: 'Why do you hide?
Why do none speak, wherever I go?
Here now I stand, king of this land,
with gladdon-sword and reed-mace.

Answer my call! Come forth all'
Speak to me words! Show me a face!'

Black came a cloud as a night-shroud.
Like a dark mole groping I went,
to the ground falling, on my hands crawling
with eyes blind and my back bent.
I crept to a wood: silent it stood
in its dead leaves, bare were its boughs.
There must I sit, wandering in wit,
while owls snored in their hotlow house.
For a year and a day there must I stay:
beetles were tapping in the rotten trees,
spiders were weaving, in the mould heaving
puffballs loomed about my knees.

At last there came light in my long night,
and I saw my hair hanging grey.
'Bent though I be, I must find the sea!
I have lost myself, and I know not the way,
but let me be gone!' Then I stumbled on;
like a hunting bat shadow was over me;
in my ears dinned a withering wind,
and with ragged briars I tried to cover me.
My hands were torn and my knees worn,
and years were heavy upon my back,
when the rain in my face took a salt taste,
and I smelled the smell of sea-wrack.

Birds came sailing, mewing, wailing;
I heard voices in cold caves,
seals barking, and rocks snarling,
and in spout-holes the gulping of waves.
Winter came fast; into a mist I passed,
to land's end my years I bore;
snow was in the air, ice in my hair,
darkness was lying on the last shore.

There still afloat waited the boat,
in the tide lifting, its prow tossing.
Weary I lay, as it bore me away,
the waves climbing, the seas crossing,
passing old hulls clustered with gulls
and great ships laden with light,
coming to haven, dark as a raven,
silent as snow, deep in the night.

Houses were shuttered, wind round them muttered,
roads were empty. I sat by a door,
and where drizzling rain poured down a drain
I cast away all that I bore:
in my clutching hand some grains of sand,
and a sea-shell silent and dead.
Never will my ear that bell hear,
never my feet that shore tread
Never again, as in sad lane,
in blind alley and in long street
ragged I walk. To myself I talk;
for still they speak not, men that I meet.

it does sound like it could be frodo, the 'bear me away' part in the second stanza especially, then just other things said do remind me of him, i'm not positive though

I agree. I dont think that it would be Frodo. I think the poem was made fro someone else. I would like to know who though