Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing? Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing? They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning? ~ J.R.R. Tolkien
Ewww! I didn't even notice that the dragon ate the magician!!! I am highly scandalized now (lol), I will being changing my emoticon though, I don't like bad dragons (that sounds really weird)
There's a dear little plant that grows in our Isle Twas St . Patrick himself, sure, that set it; And the sun of his labour with pleasure did smile, And with dew from his eye often wet it. It grows through the bog, through the brake, through the Mireland, and they call it the dear little shamrock of Ireland.