Lovely to heart's enchantment is that land... There is the cure of all sea-longing... Ulmo is but the servant of Yavnna, and the earth has brought ot life a wealth of fair things that is beyond teh thought of hearts in the hard hills of the North. In th that land Narog joins SIrion, and they haste no more, but flow broad and quiet through living meads; and all about the shining riverare flaglilies like a blossoming forest, and the grass is filled with flowers, like gems, like bells, like flames of red and gold, like a waste of many-coloured stars in a firmament of green. Yet fairest of all are the willows of Nan-tathren, pale green, or silvedr in the wind, and the rustle of their innumerable leaves is a spell of music: day and night would flicker by uncounted, while still I stood knee-deep in grass and listened. THere I was enchanted, and forgot the Sea in my heart. THere I wandered, naming new flowers, or lay adream amid the singing of the birds, and the humming of bees and flies; and there I might still dwell in delight, forskaing all my king, whether the ships of the Teleri or the swords of the NOldor, but my doom would not so.
Does that not make you wish you were there?
(Grondy merely edited a swear word.)