Nimrodel
By J.R.R. Tolkien

An Elven-maid there was of old,
    A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
    Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
    A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
    In Lòrien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
    And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
    As leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
    By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell   
    Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,
    In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
    And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey
    Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
    Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands
    Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
    Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
    The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
    Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
    Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
    Him far from Nimrodel

Of old he was and Elven-king,
    A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
    In fair Lothlòrien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,
    As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
    As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in the flowing hair,
    The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
    Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,
    and on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
    Of Amroth evermore.

~Nimrodel