The tree rustles, a breeze stirs Hidden, muffled, the breath and words Grey sight, glance searching Hooded, shadowed, the seeking and commanding   A call of anguish, a cry of pursuit Scarlet, gold, the fleeing and ruin Horns call thundering, birds calling shrill Wary, swift, among the din reeling uphill   Spear thrown skillfully, sword used deadly Groaning, screaming, men raising weapons readily Swift affray, victory certain Silent, weary, the Rangers orderly gather   Their faces grim, their eyes grey Raven, tousled, their hair hangs astray Unmasked faces, gloved hands Grey, green, hues of earth their raiment   Their leader tall, a young captain Stern, kindly, his voice bearing a kingly air Brother of a warrior, nephew of a prince Numenorean, elvish, his face mirrors beauty and peace   Before him standing, a Halfling speaking Brave, uneasy, he stood under many gazing His companion sat near, breathing in every glance Tense, alert, sitting in annoyance and defiance   The Captain listens, intently he beholds Justly, wisely, with the Halflings he quickly deals Rising the rangers dismiss, silently walking Speaking, explaining, the Captain leads the Halflings   Window of the Sunset, water with dancing colour Sheer, glass-like, flow under rays that flower Henneth Annun, place of refuge and hidden secrecy Bare, cold, the cave behind dazzling and musical beauty   There they abide, there they are given leave Aiding, advising, the young Captain steers their feet Faramir of Gondor, Ranger of Ithilien Courageous, princely, defies the law of Gondorians   Rangers of tall stature, guardians of Minas Anor Fearless, powerful, of speech and of manner Silent eyes, quiet calls of the forest lore Whispering, seeking, men of waning and fair Gondor