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 who 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, The Fellowship of the Ring,
Book II, Chapter III, The Ring Goes South,
Bilbo's lament upon passing the Ring, and the Quest, to Frodo.