“Journey’s endIn western lands beneath the SunThe flowers may rise in Spring,The trees may bud, the waters run,The merry finches sing.Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night,And swaying branches bearThe Elven-stars as jewels whiteAmid their branching hair.Though here at journey's end I lieIn darkness buried deep,Beyond all towers strong and high,Beyond all mountains steep,Above all shadows rides the SunAnd Stars for ever dwell:I will not say the Day is done,Nor bid the Stars farewell.J.”

“Though here at journey's end I lie In darkness buried deep, Beyond all towers strong and high, Beyond all mountains steep, Above all shadows rides the Sun And Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, Nor bid the Stars farewell.”

“Above all shadows rides the Sunand Stars for ever dwell:I will not say the Day is done,nor bid the Stars farewell.”

“Bilbo’s Last SongDay is ended, dim my eyes,But journey long before me lies.Farewell, friends! I hear the call.The ship's beside the stony wall.Foam is white and waves are grey;Beyond the sunset leads my way.Foam is salt, the wind is free;I hear the rising of the Sea.Farewell, friends! The sails are set,The wind is east, the moorings fret.Shadows long before me lie,Beneath the ever-bending sky,But islands lie behind the SunThat I shall raise ere all is done;Lands there are to west of West,Where night is quiet and sleep is rest.Guided by the Lonely Star,Beyond the utmost harbour-bar,I’ll find the heavens fair and free,And beaches of the Starlit Sea.Ship, my ship! I seek the West,And fields and mountains ever blest.Farewell to Middle-earth at last.I see the Star above my mast!”

“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

“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?”

“No taste of food, no feel of water, no sound of wind, no memory of tree or grass or flower, no image of moon or star are left to me. I am naked in the dark, Sam, and there is no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I begin to see it even with my waking eyes, and all else fades.”