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Authors:

I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen. Of meadow flowers and butterflies. In summers that have been. Of yellow leaves and gossamer. In autumns that there were. With morning mist and silver sun. And wind upon my hair. I sit beside the fire and think. Of how the world will be. When winter comes without a spring That I shall ever see. For still there are so many things. That I have never seen. In every wood in every spring. There is a different green. I sit beside the fire and think. Of people long ago. And people that will see a world. That I shall never know. But all the while I sit and think. Of times there were before. I listen for returning feet And voices at the door

J. R. R. Tolkien