Rover's rune

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen,
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were,
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things
That I have never seen:
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago,
And people who will see a world
That I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
Of times that were before,
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door.