The Lays of Beleriand (18 page)

Then a song he made them for sorrow's lightening, a sudden sweetness in the silent wood,

that is 'Light as Leaf on Linden' called,

whose music of mirth and mourning blended

yet in hearts does echo. This did Halog sing them:*

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The grass was very long and thin,

The leaves of many years lay thick,

The old tree-roots wound out and in,

And the early moon was glimmering.

There went her white feet lilting quick,

And Dairon's flute did bubble thin,

As neath the hemlock umbels thick

Tinuviel danced a-shimmering.

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The pale moths lumbered noiselessly,

And daylight died among the leaves,

As Beren from the wild country

Came thither wayworn sorrowing.

He peered between the hemlock sheaves,

And watched in wonder noiselessly

Her dancing through the moonlit leaves

And the ghostly moths a-following.

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There magic took his weary feet,

And he forgot his loneliness,

And out he danced, unheeding, fleet,

Where the moonbeams were a-glistening.

Through the tangled woods of Elfinesse

They fled on nimble fairy feet,

And left him to his loneliness

In the silent forest listening,

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Still hearkening for the imagined sound

Of lissom feet upon the leaves,

For the textual history of this poem's insertion into the Lay sec the Note on pp.120-2.) For music welling underground

In the dim-lit caves of Doriath.

But withered are the hemlock sheaves,

And one by one with mournful sound

Whispering fall the beechen leaves

In the dying woods of Doriath.

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He sought her wandering near and far

Where the leaves of one more year were strewn, By winter moon and frosty star

With shaken light a-shivering.

He found her neath a misty moon,

A silver wraith that danced afar,

And the mists beneath her feet were strewn

In moonlight palely quivering.

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She danced upon a hillock green

Whose grass unfading kissed her feet,

While Dairon's fingers played unseen

O'er his magic flute a-flickering;

And out he danced, unheeding, fleet,

In the moonlight to the hillock green:

No impress found he of her feet

That fled him swiftly flickering.

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And longing filled his voice that called

'Tinuviel, Tinuviel,'

And longing sped his feet enthralled

Behind her wayward shimmering.

She heard as echo of a spell

His lonely voice that longing called

'Tinuviel, Tinuviel':

One moment paused she glimmering.

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And Beren caught that elfin maid

And kissed her trembling starlit eyes,

Tinuviel whom love delayed

In the woods of evening morrowless.

Till moonlight and till music dies

Shall Beren by the elfin maid

Dance in the starlight of her eyes

In the forest singing sorrowless.

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Wherever grass is long and thin,

And the leaves of countless years lie thick,

And ancient roots wind out and in,

As once they did in Doriath,

Shall go their white feet lilting quick,

But never Dairon's music thin

Be heard beneath the hemlocks thick

Since Beren came to Doriath.

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This for hearts' uplifting did Halog sing them as the frowning fortress of the forest clasped them and nethermost night in its net caught them.

There Turin and the twain knew torture of thirst and hunger and fear, and hideous flight

from wolfriders and wandering Orcs

and the things of Morgoth that thronged the woods.

There numbed and wetted they had nights of waking cold and clinging, when the creaking winds

summer had vanquished and in silent valleys

a dismal dripping in the distant shadows

ever splashed and spilt over spaces endless

from rainy leaves, till arose the light

greyly, grudgingly, gleaming thinly

at drenching dawn. They were drawn as flies

in the magic mazes; they missed their ways

and strayed steerless, and the stars were hid and the sun sickened. Sombre and weary

had the mountains been; the marches of Doriath bewildered and wayworn wound them helpless

in despair and error, and their spirits foundered.

Without bread or water with bleeding feet

and fainting strength in the forest straying

their death they deemed it to die forwandered, when they heard a horn that hooted afar

and dogs baying. Lo! the dreary bents

and hushed hollows to the hunt wakened,

and echoes answered to eager tongues,

for Beleg the bowman was blowing gaily,

who furthest fared of his folk abroad

by hill and by hollow ahunting far,

careless of comrades or crowded halls,

as light as a leaf, as the lusty airs

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as free and fearless in friendless places.

He was great of growth with goodly limbs

and lithe of girth, and lightly on the ground

' his footsteps fell as he fared towards them all garbed in grey and green and brown.

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'Who are ye?' he asked. 'Outlaws, maybe,

: hiding, hunted, by hatred dogged?'

'Nay, for famine and thirst we faint,' said Halog,

'wayworn and wildered, and wot not the road.

Or hast not heard of the hills of slain,

field tear-drenched where in flame and terror þ Morgoth devoured the might and valour

of the hosts of Finweg and Hithlum's lord?

The Thalion Erithamrod and his thanes dauntless

,there vanished from the earth, whose valiant lady yet weeps in widowhood as she waits in Hithlum.

Thou lookest on the last of the lieges of Morwen,

'and the Thalion's child who to Thingol's court now wend at the word of the wife of Hurin.'

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Then Beleg bade them be blithe, saying:

'The Gods have guided you to good keeping;

I have heard of the house of Hurin undaunted,

. and who hath not heard of the hills of slain,

: of Nirnaith Ornoth, Unnumbered Tears!

To that war I went not, yet wage a feud

: with the Orcs unending, whom mine arrows fleeting

' smite oft unseen swift and deadly.

1 am the hunter Beleg of the hidden people;

the forest is my father and the fells my home.'

Then he bade them drink from his belt drawing a flask of leather full-filled with wine

that is bruised from the berries of the burning South --

the Gnome-folk know it, from Nogrod the Dwarves by long ways lead it to the lands of the North

: for the Elves in exile who by evil fate

the vine-clad valleys now view no more

in the land of Gods. There was lit gladly

a fire, with flames that flared and spluttered, of wind-fallen wood that his wizard's cunning rotten, rain-sodden, to roaring life

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there coaxed and kindled by craft or magic;

there baked they flesh in the brands' embers; white wheaten bread to hearts' delight

he haled from his wallet till hunger waned

and hope mounted, but their heads were mazed

by that wine of Dor-Winion that went in their veins, and they soundly slept on the soft needles

of the tall pinetrees that towered above.

Then they waked and wondered, for the woods were light, and merry was the morn and the mists rolling

from the radiant sun. They soon were ready

long leagues to cover. Now led by ways

devious winding through the dark woodland,

by slade and slope and swampy thicket,

through lonely days, long-dragging nights,

they fared unfaltering, and their friend they blessed, who but for Beleg had been baffled utterly

by the magic mazes of Melian the Queen.

To those shadowy shores he showed the way

where stilly the stream strikes before the gates of the cavernous court of the King of Doriath.

Over the guarded bridge he gained them passage, and thrice they thanked him, and thought in their hearts

'the Gods are good' -- had they guessed, maybe, what the future enfolded, they had feared to live.

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To the throne of Thingol were the three now come; there their speech well sped, and he spake them fair, for Hurin of Hithlum he held in honour,

whom Beren Ermabwed as a brother had loved

and remembering Morwen, of mortals fairest,

.he turned not Turin in contempt away.

There clasped him kindly the King of Doriath, for Melian moved him with murmured counsel,

and he said: 'Lo, O son of the swifthanded,

the light in laughter, the loyal in need,

Hurin of Hithlum, thy home is with me,

and here shalt sojourn and be held my son.

In these cavernous courts for thy kindred's sake thou shalt dwell in dear love, till thou deemest it time to remember thy mother Morwen's loneliness;

thou shalt wisdom win beyond wit of mortals,

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and weapons shalt wield as the warrior-Elves, nor slave in Hithlum shall be son of Hurin.' 590

There the twain tarried that had tended the child, till their limbs were lightened and they longed to fare through dread and danger to their dear lady,

so firm their faith. Yet frore and grey

eld sat more heavy on the aged head 595

of Mailrond the old, and his mistress' love

his might matched not, more marred by years

than Halog he hoped not to home again.

Then sickness assailed him and his sight darkened:

'To Turin I must turn my troth and fealty,' 600

he said and he sighed, 'to my sweet youngling', but Halog hardened his heart to go.

An Elfin escort to his aid was given,

and magics of Melian, and a meed of gold,

and a message to Morwen for his mouth to bear, 605

words of gladness that her wish was granted,

and Turin taken to the tender care

of the King of Doriath; of his kindly will

now Thingol called her to the Thousand Caves

to fare unfearing with his folk again, 610

there to sojourn in solace till her son be grown; for Hurin of Hithlum was holden in mind

and no might had Morgoth where Melian dwelt.

Of the errand of the Elves and of eager Halog the tale tells not, save in time they came 615

to Morwen's threshold. There Thingol's message was said where she sat in her solitary hall,

but she dared not do as was dearly bidden,

who Nienor her nursling yet newly weaned

would not leave nor be led on the long marches 620

adventure her frailty in the vast forest;

the pride of her people, princes ancient,

had suffered her send a son to Thingol

when despair urged her, but to spend her days an almsguest of others, even Elfin kings, 625

it little liked her; and lived there yet

a hope in her heart that Hurin would come,

and the dwelling was dear where he dwelt of old; at night she would listen for a knock at the doors or a footstep falling that she fondly knew. 630

Thus she fared not forth; thus her fate was woven.

Yet the thanes of Thingol she thanked nobly,

nor her shame showed she, how shorn of glory

to reward their wending she had wealth too scant, but gave them in gift those golden things 635

that last lingered, and led they thence

a helm of Hurin once hewn in wars

when he battled with Beren as brother and comrade against ogres and Orcs and evil foes.

Grey-gleaming steel, with gold adorned 640

wrights had wrought it, with runes graven

of might and victory, that a magic sat there

and its wearer warded from wound or death,

whoso bore to battle brightly shining

dire dragon-headed its dreadful crest. 645

This Thingol she bade and her thanks receive.

Thus Halog her henchman to Hithlum came,

but Thingol's thanes thanked her lowly

and girt them to go, though grey winter

enmeshed the mountains and the moaning woods, 650

for the hills hindered not the hidden people.

Lo! Morwen's message in a month's journey,

so speedy fared they, was spoken in Doriath.

For Morwen Melian was moved to ruth,

but courteously the king that casque received, 655

her golden gift, with gracious words,

who deeply delved had dungeons filled

with elvish armouries of ancient gear,

yet he handled that helm as his hoard were scant:

'That head were high that upheld this thing 660

with the token crowned, the towering crest

to Dorlomin dear, the dragon of the North,

that Thalion Erithamrod the thrice renowned

oft bore into battle with baleful foes.

Would that he had worn it to ward his head 665

on that direst day from death's handstroke! '

Then a thought was thrust into Thingol's heart, and Turin was called and told kindly '

that his mother Morwen a mighty thing

had sent to her son, his sire's heirloom, 670

o'er-written with runes by wrights of yore

in dark dwarfland in the deeps of time,

ere Men to Mithrim and misty Hithlum

o'er the world wandered; it was worn aforetime by the father of the fathers of the folk of Hurin, 675