The Land of the Gods in the Far West has Hobbits in Awe as Honored Guests
Hobbits in holes, with habits of wholesome habituation,
Conservative ideation, ideology not designed for distant destinations,
Hesitation on the part of society, the charity of others lends clarity among them,
The high ones know their good graces, they show with determination on their faces,
The little people, the Shire Folk, who drink their pints and crack their jokes,
Grow their oats and grind their meal,
At hearth and home their hearts will heal,
But the Eldarin will tarry no more,
And journey on to the hither shore,
In Faraei, living forever more,
Among the Valar, the Gods of Yore,
And for the Hobbits’ weight of care,
And pains so deep they always bear,
For conquering evil Lords themselves,
Unholy Gods in Darkness dwelt,
They went as well to Elvenhome,
In Middle Earth not doomed to roam,
And living on in paradise,
With high born lords of sublime device,
Jewels and gems that shower light,
For the children’s faces full of delight,
Their wounds are tended by the best,
And their souls are finally put to rest,
With the Lords of Earth at hand,
The joys of life can be felt again.
