He rides the roads in day or night
His raiment sable silver-lined
His sword is sharp and gleaming bright
His smile is quick, his eyes are kind.

A child and fool he used to be
But faithful friendship led him on,
And pit and wood and war he'd see,
That child and fool is dead and gone.

In Fangorn friends he'd find and wake
And Isengard they'd overthrow;
Alone before the Blackest Gate
He raised his sword and struck his blow.

A lad he left. A prince returned.
A price past silver-true he paid.
Corrupted stone he took, he burned,
Yet neither friend nor hope betrayed.

Now chief and captain hailed is he,
And honored high they hold his name
But peregrine might he ever be
Such hearts a home will never claim.

He rides the roads in night with Moon,
He rides the paths the Sun has blest,
A lad compelled to age too soon,
The dauntless falcon of the West.