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 there were before
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door
- The Fellowship of the Ring