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Daisy had a good memory for song and rhyme. She loved to listen to her mother singing as she spun the wool from their sheep.
She raised her hand tentatively, then stood at her table when Master Hearpwine and Astilwen glanced her way. In a clear, piping voice she sang out her idea for the second verse:
That graceful mallorn tree
Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea,
And wouldst thou hew it down?
Ruffian, forbear thy stroke!
Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh spare it for us Hobbit folk
Heed our warning cries!
‘I wasn’t sure about that land and sea stuff, but I figured if Mister Frodo and Mister Bilbo had gone over the sea to visit the Elves, then they surely must have told them all about the Party Tree. Especially since it was right near Mister Bilbo’s place.’ She blushed as the string of words came to and end. ‘And I’ll bet they told them about both of the trees – the one that used to be here. Before I was born. And the pretty one Mayor Sam planted.’
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When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown/When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town/When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West/I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
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