| Lyrics |
For passing where the days, my friendand doomed the nights,when flitting ghostmoths dancedround tapers in the moveless air.
And doomed already were,the radiant dawns,the odour and the noise of meadsand all about is night.
One moment now may give us morethan fifty years of reason,our minds shall drink of every porethe spirit of the season
To her fair works did nature linkthe human souls that through me ranand much it grieved my heart to thinkwhat I can make of man.
You look around on Middle-
Earthas if she for no purpose bore you,as if you were her first-born birth,and none had lived before you.I sit upon this old grey stone,and dream my time away.
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