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 the world
that I shall never know.
J R R Tolkien