| The sun went down. Bag End seemed sad and gloomy and disheveled. Frodo wandered round the familiar rooms, and saw the light of the sunset fade on the walls, and shadows creep out of the corners. It grew slowly dark indoors. He went out and walked down to the gate at the bottom of the path, and then a short way down the Hill Road. He half expected to see Gandalf come striding up through the dusk. 1:104 |
| They went in single file along hedgerows and the borders of coppices, and night fell dark about them. In their dark cloaks, they were invisible as if they all had magic rings. 1:106 |
| The night was clear, cool, and starry, but smoke-like wisps of mist were creeping up the hillsides from the streams and deep meadows. Thin-clad birches, swaying in a light wind above their heads, made a black net against the pale sky. 1:107 |
| Away high in the East swung Remmirath, the Netted Stars, and slowly above the mists red Borgil rose, glowing like a jewel of fire. Then by some shift of airs, all the mist was drawn away like a veil, and there leaned up, as he climbed over the rim of the world, the Swordsman of the Sky, Menelvgor with his shinning belt. The elves all burst into song. Suddenly under the trees, a fire sprang up with a red light. 1:120 |
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| T h e W o r l d o f M i d d l e E a r t h |
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| Then he heard a noise in the distance. At first he thought it was a great wind coming over the leaves of the forest. Then he knew it was not the leaves, but the sound of the sea far-off; a sound he had never herd in waking life, though it had often troubled his dreams. Suddenly, he found he was out in the open, 1:154 |
| They picked a way among the trees, and their ponies plodded along, carefully avoiding the many writhing and interlacing roots. There was no undergrowth. The ground was rising steadily, and as they went forward, it seemed that the trees became taller, darker and thicker. There was no sound, except an occasional drip of moisture falling through the still leaves. 1:157 |
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