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.



See:
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (part one of The Lord Of The Rings series), first published in 1954

See also:

Notes by Andrew Guild:
This poem is by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, who was born in Bloemfontein, Orange Free State (South Africa), in 1892 (although he spent most of his life in England, from the age of three), and died in Bournemouth, England, in 1973.

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