| All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wonder are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king. |
| The Riddle of Strider |
| This poem is copyrighted to J.R.R. Tolkien. Do not take this poem without permission. |