Lyrics:
For passing where the days, my friendand doomed the nights,when flitting ghostmoths dancedround tapers in the moveless airAnd doomed already were,the radiant dawns,the odour and the noise of meadsand all about is nightOne moment now may give us morethan fifty years of reason,our minds shall drink of every porethe spirit of the seasonTo her fair works did nature linkthe human souls that through me ranand much it grieved my heart to thinkwhat I can make of manYou look around on Middle-Earthas if she for no purpose bore you,as if you were her first-born birth,and none had lived before youI sit upon this old grey stone,and dream my time away