Seasons

In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring.

Ah! The sight and smell of the Spring in Nantasarion!

And I said that was good.

I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand.

Ah! The light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir!

And I thought that was best.

To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn.

Ah! The gold and red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!

It was more than my desire.

To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in Winter.

Ah! The wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon Orod-na-Thon!

My voice went up and sang in the sky.

And now all those lands lie under the wave,

And I walk in Ambarona, in Tauremorna, in Aldalome,

In my own land, in the country of Fangorn,

Where the roots are long,

And the years lie thicker than leaves

In Tauremornalome.