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 whither then? I cannot say.
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Roads go ever 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, Turn 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.