A gift of rare mithril, so lovely and strong;
The price of the Shire in a bright coat to covet.
For the righting of many an ancient wrong,
He gave his own
And his beloved,
Greater than wealth, his sole heir bestown
Given to finish his task that had grown.
Entrusted a-tremble from his own aging hands
To all the free peoples this fair one was given.
Under the mountains, across the lands
Sent with a burden
Heavy upon him,
Bearing the weight to places unknown,
Standing among them, he yet walked alone.
Shining beyond greatest value of treasures:
The brave and true heart that there beat beneath,
Steadfast and true by every measure,
The price of innocence
And of all that is sweet.
The breath of his life, all silver enclosed;
The price of the life that Bilbo chose.