Sam's Song in the Orc-tower

In western lands beneath the Sun
 the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run,
 the merry finches sing.
Or there maybe ‘tis cloudless night
 and swaying beeches bear
the Elven-stars as jewels white
 amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey’s end I lie
 in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high,
 beyond all mountains steep,
above all shadows rides the Sun
 and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
 nor bid the Stars farewell.