
Samwise the Faithful
In gardens fair of Hobbiton green, There dwelt a gardener hale and keen, A humble soul of heart so true, Who bore the weight of burdens new. He labored long 'neath hill and tree, Yet dreamed of lands beyond the sea, Of elves and stars, and noble deeds, Though rooted firm in simple needs. When shadow fell on Middle-earth, And dark winds howled from Mordor’s durth, He pledged his hand, his strength, his will, To Frodo's quest through woe and chill. Through woods of dred and waters deep, Through paths where shadows wake from sleep, Through mountain cold and fiery fane, He bore his master’s grief and pain. “Come not between my lord and me,” Cried Sam, though foes assailed with glee, A blade of westernesse he bore, And smote the fiends of Mordor’s lore. In Shelob’s lair, where light was none, He fought, though all seemed lost and done, With Phial bright and Sting of steel, He struck for love, with wrathful zeal. When Frodo faltered, burdened low, Through ashen lands where nothing grows, Sam bore him up, though wearied sore, And climbed to Doom’s relentless door. “I cannot carry It,” said he, “But you I’ll carry to the sea, Or through the fire, or through the gloom, To end this dark and evil doom.” The Ring was cast, the fire raged, The final battle, fate had staged, Yet Samwise stayed, his duty done, A servant true ‘neath Sauron’s sun. With Rosie’s love and children near, He tilled the soil for many a year, The Red Book filled with tales of yore, And Elanor’s laughter graced the door. But time, relentless, called at last, And Samwise sought the sea’s deep vast, Where white ships wait by starlit bay, To bear the weary souls away. Among the folk of Elanor’s kin, This tale endures, as truth within: That Samwise passed the Towers grey, And sailed to shores of endless day. Last of the Bearers, true and bold, To lands where silver streams unfold, He found at last a haven fair, Beyond the Sun, beyond despair.

