This excerpt is from The Hoard, a short story by J.R.R. Tolkein. It just seemed to grab me as appropriate to post here.
"There was an old dwarf in a dark cave,
to silver and gold his fingers clave,
with hammer and tongs and anvil-stone,
he worked his hands to the hard bone,
and coins he made, and strings of rings,
and thought to buy the power of kings.
But his eyes grew dim and his ears dull
and the skin yellow on his old skull;
through his bony claw with a pale sheen
the stony jewels slipped unseen.
"There was an old dwarf in a dark cave,
to silver and gold his fingers clave,
with hammer and tongs and anvil-stone,
he worked his hands to the hard bone,
and coins he made, and strings of rings,
and thought to buy the power of kings.
But his eyes grew dim and his ears dull
and the skin yellow on his old skull;
through his bony claw with a pale sheen
the stony jewels slipped unseen.
