Bilbos' Song

I sit beside the fire and think

of all that I have seen,

of meadow-flowers and butterflies

in summers that have been.

Of yellow leaves and gossamer

in autumns that there were,

with morning mist and silver sun

and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think

of how the world will be

when winter comes without a spring

that I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things

that I have never seen;

in every wood in every spring

there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think

of people long ago,

and people who will see a world

that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think

of times that were before,

I listen for returning feet

and voices at the door.

by

R.R. Tolkien