Ol' Bill, he was a bit on the scrawny side
He carried the bags with head held high.
Thru the sunshine and the shade,
Nary a complaint he made.
Struggling over the rocks and snow,
But, into the mines, he could not go.
A blessing from the Wizard, a hug from Sam,
Back to Bree he gallops, fast as he can.
Wiser than the wise, he knows they will come home.
To feed him hay and apples, in his barn of stone.
Ol' Barliman, the stout inn keeper,
And young Bob, the stable sweeper.
Brush him till his fur shines bright,
And keep him safe from harm at night.
Hoping that, on some fine summer day,
Friends will come marching back, down the Greenway.
Home from war and battles fought,
Once more to the Pony for a draught.
But, Ol' Bill, he just swishes his tail,
It's water he drinks, to heck with ale!!