Immortal to Die

Three rings for the elves, fairest and lovely
Nenya, Narya, and Vilya three
They sang to the fair ones over the sea
On the hither shores, the side with me

Alone I walk on these mortal shores
An immortal heart within my core
Alive, not to live with an eagerness born
For forever to me is a living chore

I do not look forward to the spring
For another next year with soon enough bring
I do not live for living’s fling
In a hundred years I still will sing

I do not find joy in the bird’s merry voice
Or in the winds varying course
Nor in nature’s thriving force
I live with life, a strange remorse

The mortal life is a precious gift
To live with the dangerous risks
Tomorrow may burn bright in candlelight lit
Or sink into the deep, cool mist

It may be your first or perhaps your last
The sun each day buries the past
The sun each day raises the mask
The moon each night is a beautiful task

But for me, all is as the passing dew
Till the seasons change their time and hue
Till the water’s edge is a fading blue
May it never be this way for you. . .