In the third of forgotten ages
An amiable friend and foe
Grew from easy life to courage
And slayed the noble war.
He returned to many legends
And all laurels grown with age;
And still loved friends, the most.
 
And as another heroic halfling,
So end the nations, someday.
His laurels fade from legend.
And each kingdom dies away
In a peace drained from war.
So fellowship ends, someday,
Yet returns, to another's quest.
 
But well this tale continues
when the final age is done,
upon the bright plains of Justice,
on the high mountains of Truth,
within the thick forests of Plenty,
from every free castle of Light
then, Sam, will we have won.