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Nobody's done this one yet, I think. I had trouble with the rhythm but I think it's alright now.
Strange little land of peace and tranquility
Home to the Hobbit-folk.
Inventors of golf and of smoking.
Rigours of life don't effect them
Everybody happy with their lot.
Re-reading it, its not quite right, but the form doesn't require perfect rhythm or metre does it?
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The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall, the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on.
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