Shadows lay somber dismissing laughter
The hanging stars presently concealed
Though in eyes of the elf they still shine
He stands steady amid the field
Tireless, gazing along the path
Resting the eagerness of mind

The pale moon now comes forth
From under the blanket of dense cloud
Reflects on the bow between swift fingers
Glitters on the work of great endeavoring
Made fairly, the bow from Caras Galadhon
For use of the elves who in Lorien linger

His feet softly shod
Among the grass they have trod
Through snow and mountain
Through forest and stream
Through the cries of battle
Through the vast plains

A long knife hangs under the cloth
Of fair fabric that the Lady wrought
Finely woven cloak of concealment
Colour doubtful during swift movement

Arrows are in readiness in the quiver
Awaiting the fingers ungloved
To be strung and tightly tugged

He sings softly in fair elven tone
Of tales long before the sun shone
Of grass before the rain
And stars before the moon came
Of the voices continued in song
And before the time was brief or long

Tales he sung and songs of pale wonder
Of waves and the gulls and many sails
The winds and rain and curtains of glass

Many were the words wrought
By elven minstrels and then taught
To free lost and dimmed memory
Of wonder and splendor now a dream
Fogged in the mind of those with eyesight
That saw never the things of past might

Unwearied he stood in the night
Until the red of dawn’s light
Rang across the empty plain
Pushing back the pondering of rain
And of shadows lurking in thoughts
Wonders of light and beauty are sought
Though there they reign in the heart of all
In eyes of the elf the wakefulness dwells