Welcome back to the Daily Poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kern. Today's poem is by

J.R.R.R. Tolkien, who lived from 1892 to 1973. You probably know him as the author of The Hobbit,

the Lord of the Rings, the Silmarillion,

and other similar tales. But within those fantasy novels, there are many poems. And today I'm

going to read one of those poems, three different versions of that poem, actually. And then at the

end of it, I'm going to talk about the next poetry contest that we're going to be having for our younger listeners. There are many poems in Tolkien's fiction, but the one that I'm

going to read today is one of the most famous. You first hear it in The Hobbit, when Bilbo recites it,

towards the end, I believe, as he's beginning his journey back to the shire. This is how it goes.

Roads go ever on, over rock and under tree, by caves where never sun has shone, by streams

that never find the sea, over snow by winter sown, and through the merry flowers of June,

over grass and over stone, and under mountains of the

moon. Roads go ever, ever on, under cloud, and under star, yet feet that wandering have gone,

turned at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen, and horror in the halls of stone,

look at last on meadows green, and trees and hills they long have known.

That same poem shows up a couple of times in the Lord of the Rings, actually a trio of times.

It shows up three times.

This is how it goes when Bilbo sings it when he leaves the Shire to set off for Rivendell.

It's a shorter version.

The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet,

until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands

meet, and wither then, I cannot say. The second version of this poem shows up, according to

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