We knew that land once, You and I… and once we wandered there in the long days now long gone by, a dark child and a fair. Was it on the paths of firelight t…

An Elven-maid there was of old, A shining star by day: Her mantle white was hemmed with g… Her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brows,

Far over the Misty Mountains cold… To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To seek our pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty sp…

I am off down the road Where the fairy lanterns glowed And the little pretty flitter-mice… A slender band of gray It runs creepily away

Grendel came forth in the dead of… the moon in his eyes shone glassy… as over the moors he strode in mig… until he came to Heorot. Dark lay the dale, the windows sho…

“It was early and still in the nig… And few were the stars, and far wa… The drowsy trees drooping, and sil… Shadows woke under them while they… I stole to the window with stealth…

Three Rings for the Elven-kings u… Seven for the Dwarf-lords in thei… Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die… One for the Dark Lord on his dark… In the Land of Mordor where the…

The world was young, the mountains… No stain yet on the Moon was seen… No words were laid on stream or st… When Durin woke and walked alone. He named the nameless hills and de…

The Man in the Moon had silver sh… And his beard was of silver thread… He was girt with pure gold and ina… With gold about his head. Clad in silken robe in his great w…

Eärendil was a mariner that tarried in Arvernien; he built a boat of timber felled in Nimbrethil to journey in; her sails he wove of silver fair,

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wi… Deep roots are not reached by the… From the ashes a fire shall be wok…

“The leaves were long, the grass w… The hemlock-umbels tall and fair, And in the glade a light was seen Of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there

Grim was the world and grey last n… The moon and stars were fled, The hall was dark without song or… The fires were fallen dead.

In western lands beneath the Sun The flowers may rise in Spring, The trees may bud, the waters run, The merry finches sing. Or there maybe 'tis cloudless nigh…