“I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a Golden Tree.Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither ShoreAnd in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.But if of ships I now would sing, what ship would come to me,What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?”
“To the sea, to the sea! The white gulls are crying,The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.West, west away, the round sun is falling, Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, The voices of my people that have gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;For our days are ending and our years failing.I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!”
“And at that moment a wind came out of the northwest, and entered the woods and bared the golden branches, and danced over the downs, and led a company of scarlet and golden leaves, that had dreaded this day but danced now it had come; and away with a riot of dancing and glory of colour, high in the light of the sun that had set from the sight of the fields, went wind and leaves together.”
“Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and dayThe old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!”
“The cities swept about me like dead leaves, leaves that were brightly colored but torn away from the branches. I would have stopped, but I was pursued by something. It always came upon me unawares, taking me altogether by surprise. Perhaps it was a familiar bit of music. Perhaps it was only a piece of transparent glass.”
“It is a very beautiful day. The woman looks around and thinks: 'there cannot ever have been a spring more beautiful than this. I did not know until now that clouds could be like this. I did not know that the sky is the sea and that clouds are the souls of happy ships, sunk long ago. I did not know that the wind could be tender, like hands as they caress - what did I know - until now?”