He journeyed through a land of webs
A labyrinth of magic spells
He came from distant wild lands
Wearied by paths through hills and dells
Fate walked with that man that day
As he wandered through the maze
Not lost was he, but lost he seemed
As he stepped with haunted gaze
Sorrow lay upon his brow
And weariness rode his shoulders
Yet all sadness lifted from his back
When once he did behold her
There in the light of moon and stars
Danced a maiden bright
Dark of hair with raiment blue
And grey eyes filled with light
Nightingales sang as she passed by there
And so he called her in his heart
Tinúviel he named her, Elvish bird
From her he dared not part
Yet she left him ere he spoke a word
And vanished in the trees
He cast himself in a sorrowed heap
Bent upon his knees
Anguished, he searched the shadowed woods
A silent spell upon him cast
Noiselessly seeking his lady-love
Yet with legs held fast
For from afar he soon beheld her
As leaves in autumn winds
Or as a star upon a wintry hill
But chained were still his limbs
So passed two seasons of the year
As mute Beren still stayed
While Lúthien laughed and paid no heed
Not yet the spell on her lay
Yet near dawn on the eve of springtime
When all was cold and still
And frozen waters made no sound
She danced upon a hill
From youthful lips sprang songs of birds
Keen and piercing as a lark
A voice that woke the dying stars
And chased away the dark
Lúthien sang, the Nightingale fair
Releasing winter’s bonds
Flowers sprang where danced her steps
Bubbled the icy streams and ponds
From Beren fell the spell of silence
His eyes grew bright and clear
Tinúviel, Tinúviel!
She paused with listening ear
The woods echoed with Beren’s cries
She gazed about in awe
For none had called her by that name
And then the man she saw
He came to her as she marveled there
And stood quite close beside her
She looked into his deep dark eyes
Shivering with wonder
His loving face spoke of tenderness
She knew she felt the same
She loved him, mortal though he was
With face like fresh spring rain
Yet she shirked his grasping, loving arms
Fading away once more
But it was too late, she found her doom
She left him, lonely and heartsore
She wept in great torment and pain
He then shared her distress
For though parted, each felt alike
Each cried, sad and listless
Beren lay swooned upon the ground
Forsaken, cold as stone
He wandered in his troubled mind
Yearning for her, yet alone
He heeded not the bright new dawn
But sat until the night
He woke and stretched his mighty hand
Groping for hers to hold tight
Beyond his hope she came to him
She laid her hand in his
His dawn had risen, his day was come
Perhaps they swore with a kiss
Perhaps they plighted there a troth
A promise to love forever
Who knows their speech as they ambled there
The speech of secret lovers?