John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

(3 January 1892 – 2 September 1973 / Orange Free State)

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
1. Theoden 1/3/2003
2. Nimrodel 1/3/2003
3. All Ye Joyful 1/3/2003
4. Athelas 1/3/2003
5. To The Bottle I Go 1/3/2003
6. Elbereth 1/3/2003
7. Sing All Ye People! 1/3/2003
8. Bregalad's Lament 1/3/2003
9. The King 1/3/2003
10. Seasons 1/3/2003
11. Gandalf's Song Of Lorien 1/3/2003
12. Lebennin 1/3/2003
13. Tinuviel 1/3/2003
14. The Sea 1/3/2003
15. Bath-Song 1/3/2003
16. Durin 1/3/2003
17. Gil-Galad 1/3/2003
18. Theoden's Fall 1/3/2003
19. Earendil 1/3/2003
20. Lament For Eorl The Young 1/3/2003
21. The Man In The Moon Came Down Too Soon 11/17/2011
22. O! Where Are You Going? 1/3/2003
23. One White Tree 1/3/2003
24. The Little House Of Lost Play (Mar Vanwa Tyalieva) 1/3/2003
25. Namárië 1/3/2003
26. All Woods Must Fail 1/3/2003
27. Bilbo's Last Song (At The Grey Havens) 1/3/2003
28. Lament For Boromir 1/3/2003
29. Roads Go Ever On 1/3/2003
30. Finrod's Song 1/3/2003
31. Journey's End 1/3/2003
32. Troll Sat Alone On His Seat Of Stone 1/3/2003
33. Cat 1/3/2003
34. One Ring 1/3/2003
35. The Man In The Moon Stayed Up Too Late 1/3/2003
36. Over The Misty Mountains Cold 1/3/2003
37. I Sit And Think 1/3/2003
38. All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter 1/3/2003
Best Poem of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander 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.

Read the full of All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter

The Sea

To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling?
The voices of my people gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,

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