cracked whisper. "How far is there
to go?"
"I don't know," said Sam, "because
I don't know where we're going."
Phial and looked down at his
master, and the light burned gently
now with the soft radiance of the
evening-star in summer, and in that
light Frodo's face was fair of hue
again, pale but beautiful with an
elvish beauty, as of one who has
long passed the shadows. And
with the bitter comfort of that last
sight Sam turned and hid the light
and stumbled on into the growing
dark.
the fire is burning red,
the tower is tall, the mountains dark;
all living things are dead.
In western lands the sun may shine,
there flower and tree in spring
is opening, is blossoming;
and there the finches sing.
But here I sit alone and think
of days when grass was green,
and earth was brown, and I was young:
they might have never been.
For they are past, for ever lost,
and here the shadows lie
deep upon my heavy heart,
and hope and daylight die.
But still I sit and think of you;
I see you far away
Walking down the homely roads
on a bright and windy day.
It was merry then when I could run
to answer to your call,
could hear your voice or take your hand;
but now the night must fall.
And now beyond the world I sit,
and know not where you lie!
O master dear, will you not hear
my voice before we die?
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