MANDOS TO LÚTHIEN
For what you have done
And everything been through
Suspended between
Dimensions where phantasms look true
When your empty hands
Are lifted in the last sacrifice
And daylight is down,
Laid down in a coffin of ice
Your wish is granted
Mere bliss or humanity
The seed is planted
In the deep soil of your liberty
Your word has been heard
And Middle-earth will hold you again,
A living woman
A torrent will flow to the main
LAND OF THE DEAD THAT LIVE
They have gone to the place that no-one can reach
To the verdant island of rarefied sheen
The far-distant strand of golden desire
Amber light enwrapped in a mantle of green
They will not come back from the pearly twilight,
A beckoning flash, tantalising farewell
But the vision has not gone away
Because to them immortality bowed
And the dead that live are sung in the lay
That takes wing in an amethyst cloud
Soaring high when the evensong has passed,
Shining through age-old extents of dejection,
Staying still, like the lingering reflection
Of the ancient music that was hushed
That was hushed
So your tree will grow, and it will not die
Rooted in the earth, reaching to the sky
Higher than your hope, never to subside
DIOR AND THE RE-CONQUEST OF DORIATH
Their heir is shaken from his reverie,
From the green paradise where he was born
Clangours of combat break into his dream
With the shrill bidding of the battle horn
So your tree will grow, and it will not die
Rooted in the earth, reaching to the sky
Higher than your hope, never to subside
A new breed of kings coming to abide
See, the hordes are arriving
They are laden with treasure
Gear of war on their shoulders
Red revenge without measure
See the son and the father
On the dwarves they are falling
See the jewel retaken
Amid wrestle and squalling
A new sovereign has risen
The high spirit alighted
On the child of three races
Now forever united
THE NAUGLAMIR
Hasten your step
Because autumn nights are dark
And rooks fly fast
In sundown’s dying spark
From Ossiriand
You, herald of majesty
Gallop along
With the speed of fatality
On him the ardent necklace sits,
The glory of the threefold race
It was a spectacle of force
A dwelling where resplendence housed
A premonition of more wars
Before the Gods’ anger was roused