I love the autumn in the Shire The air is crisp, the sun still high Not much is left to be desired The harvest in, there is much pie. Then winter descends on the Shire It is right cold, you can see far The snow-clad meadows we admire Then drink hot tea - how blessed we are! And when the spring comes to the Shire The branches thawed, all's green with sprouts The sight, it lifts the spirit higher "It's good to live!" the soul will shout. And now it's summer in the Shire An idle time, not much to do So we all gather round a fire Bring lots to eat, pie, cakes and stew. Thus all the seasons of the Shire Have their own charm and bring us fun As does this picnic, no more desire Is left to crave, our work is done.