The Dark Before the Plunge
The night is bleak, the moon hidden,
Silence fills this city of men.
I wander winding streets of stone,
A lonely lad far from his home.
How far away my Shire seems now.
Its homely fields under the plough,
Old winding lanes bursting with spring,
From coppice green the blackbirds sing.
Dawn tints the east in rosy hues
And sprinkles grass with pearly dews,
With orchards robed in purest white,
These glories fill our land with light.
Down cobbled streets I slowly stray,
Where coming morn forgets it’s day.
A veil of dark obscurity
Now robs it of its purity.
Each street, each house in shadow lies,
Half seen visions before my eyes,
Whispered voices troubled, gloomy,
Drifting through the dark around me.
A soldier now, in armour clad,
Smaller than most, a hobbit lad.
The hour I dread is drawing near
And I am wracked by icy fear.
The Shire, my home, sweet memories,
Their bonds of love fold wings round me.
Brave friends I hope again to see,
These strengths now set my courage free.