In western lands beneath the Sunthe flowers may rise in Spring,the trees may bud, the waters run,the merry finches sing.Or there maybe 'tis cloudless nightand swaying beeches bearthe Elven-stars as jewels whiteamid their branching hair. Though here at journey's end I liein darkness buried deep,beyond all towers strong and high,beyond all mountains steep,above all shadows rides the Sunand Stars for ever dwell:I will not say the Day is done,nor bid the Stars farewell.
-J.R.R. Tolkien
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