I knew such a fellow to suffer that fate. A terribly brave sort he was, & surpassingly kind. My cousin wrote a poem for him, which I think was meant to be a comfort & I hope will do you some good. Let me see if I can remember it.
All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; Old that is strong does not wither, Deepest roots are not reached by the frost.
From the dark a fire shall be awoken, From the light a fire shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
no subject
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
Old that is strong does not wither,
Deepest roots are not reached by the frost.
From the dark a fire shall be awoken,
From the light a fire shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.