As I researched objects of power,
I blew rings and guzzled tankards of beer.
Then an Elven matron caught me,
And she chided, “Sir, you can’t smoke in here,
All right? Books might ignite!”

Though I was irked, I had what I needed:
Confirmation we were facing the worst.
So much to do, a war to prepare for...
But I had to see Frodo off first.
I brought his plight to light
And gave him quite a fright.

“Frodo,” I told him, “Bilbo left a golden trinket.
I can’t rest until it’s finally gone.
Riders from Mordor could come to your door,
So you and Samwise must leave with the dawn.
Your flight starts at first light.”

Then when he left, I went to the wizard
Who I could count on to help with my quest.
Though I suspected that my efforts would be futile,
I had hope when I consulted the best -
The White - he’d set things right.
But White was not too bright.

Saruman locked me on the top of a tower.
Took an eagle to escape from his wrath.
Came back to you, and I led you but tumbled
Toward the Balrog as you ran up the path.
Our fight went on all night.

Then after I won, I left but returned here.
Seems the world was not finished with me.
I know that you think I don’t look like Gandalf;
That’s because the Grey is gone, you see.
So cite delight, not fright.
I’m called Gandalf the White!