#EnglishWriters
“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
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,
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,
Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone… By streams that never find the sea… Over snow by winter sown,
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…
In unknown days my fathers’ sires Came, and from son to son took roo… Among the orchards and the river-m… And the long grasses of the fragra… Many a summer saw they kindle yell…
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 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…
“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…
I know a window in a western tower That opens on celestial seas, And wind that has been blowing rou… Comes to nestle in its tossing dra… It is a white tower builded in the…
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gol… emptyand leaves of gold there grew… Of wind I sang, a wind there came emptyand in the branches blew. Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon,
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…
You and me—we know that land And often have been there In the long old days, old nursery… A dark child and a fair. Was it down the paths of firelight…