Gwahir, swiftest of eagles

Not all those who wander are lost. The old that is strong does not wither. Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes of fire shall be woken. A light from the shadows shall spring. Renewed shall be blade that was broken.

The crownless again shall be king.

Strider, why didn't you tell me you were Gandalf's friend?

Would you have believed me till now? I knew nothing, you lad. Anyway, I hoped you might take me to my own city.