All that is Gold Does not Glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost,
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost,
From the ashes a fire shall be broken,
A light from th shadows shall spring,
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

     He became at last the most hardy of living Men, skilled in their crafts and lore, and was yet more tan they; for he was elven-wise, and tere was a light in his eyes that when the weskindled few culd endure. His face was sad and stern because of the doom that was laid on him and yet hope dwelt ever in the depth of his heart, from which mirth would arise at times like a spring from the rock.
 

Composed by Bilbo Baggains; unknown