The Lays of Beleriand (51 page)

sharp was his sword and high his helm,

the king of beech and oak and elm.

When grass was green and leaves were long,

when finch and mavis sang their song,

there under bough and under sun 75

in shadow and in light would run

fair Luthien the elven-maid,

dancing in dell and grassy glade.

OF DAIRON MINSTREL OF THINGOL.

When sky was clear and stars were keen,

then Dairon with his fingers lean, 80

as daylight melted into eve,

a trembling music sweet would weave

on flutes of silver, thin and clear

for Luthien, the maiden dear.

There mirth there was and voices bright; 85

there eve was peace and morn was light;

there jewel gleamed and silver wan

and red gold on white fingers shone,

and elanor and niphredil

bloomed in the grass unfading still, 90

while the endless years of Elven-land

rolled over far Beleriand,

until a day of doom befell,

as still the elven-harpers tell.

2. OF MORGOTH & THE SNARING OF GORLIM.

Far in the Northern hills of stone 95

in caverns black there was a throne

by flame encircled; there the smoke

in coiling columns rose to choke

the breath of life, and there in deep

and gasping dungeons lost would creep 100

to hopeless death all those who strayed

by doom beneath that ghastly shade.

A king there sat, most dark and fell

of all that under heaven dwell.

Than earth or sea, than moon or star 105

more ancient was he, mightier far

in mind abysmal than the thought

of Eldar or of Men, and wrought

of strength primeval; ere the stone

was hewn to build the world, alone 110

he walked in darkness, fierce and dire,

burned, as he wielded it, by fire.

He 'twas that laid in ruin black

the Blessed Realm and fled then back

to Middle-earth anew to build 115

beneath the mountains mansions filled

with misbegotten slaves of hate:

death's shadow brooded at his gate.

His hosts he armed with spears of steel

and brands of flame, and at their heel 120

the wolf walked and the serpent crept

with lidless eyes. Now forth they leapt,

his ruinous legions, kindling war

in field and frith and woodland hoar.

%here long the golden elanor 125

had gleamed amid the grass they bore

their banners black, where finch had sung

and harpers silver harps had wrung

now dark the ravens wheeled and cried

amid the reek, and far and wide 130

the swords of Morgoth dripped with red

above the hewn and trampled dead.

Slowly his shadow like a cloud

rolled from the North, and on the proud

that would not yield his vengeance fell; 135

to death or thraldom under hell

all things he doomed: the Northern land

lay cowed beneath his ghastly hand.

But still there lived in hiding cold

Beor's son, Barahir the bold, 140

of land bereaved and lordship shorn

who once a prince of Men was born,

and now an outlaw lurked and lay

in the hard heath and woodland grey.

OF THE SAVING OF KING INGLOR FELAGUND BY THE XII BEORINGS

Twelve men beside him still there went, 145

still faithful when all hope was spent.

Their names are yet in elven-song

remembered, though the years are long

since doughty Dagnir and Ragnor,

Radhruin, Dairuin and Gildor, 150

Gorlim Unhappy, and Urthel,

and Arthad and Hathaldir fell;

since the black shaft with venomed wound

took Belegund and Baragund,

the mighty sons of Bregolas; 155

since he whose doom and deeds surpass

all tales of Men was laid on bier,

fair Beren son of Barahir.

For these it was, the chosen men

of Beor's house, who in the fen 160

of reedy Serech stood at bay

about King Inglor in the day

of his defeat, and with their swords

thus saved of all the Elven-lords

the fairest; and his love they earned. 165

And he escaping south, returned

to Nargothrond his mighty realm,

where still he wore his crowned helm;

but they to their northern homeland rode,

dauntless and few, and there abode 170

unconquered still, defying fate,

pursued by Morgoth's sleepless hate.

OF TARN AELUIN THE BLESSED.

Such deeds of daring there they wrought

that soon the hunters that them sought

at rumour of their coming fled. 175

Though price was set upon each head

to match the weregild of a king,

no soldier could to Morgoth bring

news even of their hidden lair;

for where the highland brown and bare 180

above the darkling pines arose

of steep Dorthonion to the snows

and barren mountain-winds, there lay

a tarn of water, blue by day,

by night a mirror of dark glass 185

for stars of Elbereth that pass

above the world into the West.

Once hallowed, still that place was blest:

no shadow of Morgoth, and no evil thing

yet thither came; a whispering ring 190

of slender birches silver-grey

stooped on its margin, round it lay

a lonely moor, and the bare bones

of ancient Earth like standing stones

thrust through the heather and the whin; 195

and there by houseless Aeluin

the hunted lord and faithful men

under the grey stones made their den.

OF GORLIM UNHAPPY.

Gorlim Unhappy, Angrim's son,

as the tale tells, of these was one 200

most fierce and hopeless. He to wife,

while fair was the fortune of his life,

took the white maiden Eilinel:

dear love they had ere evil fell.

To war he rode; from war returned 205

to find his fields and homestead burned,

his house forsaken roofless stood,

empty amid the leafless wood;

and Eilinel, white Eilinel,

was taken whither none could tell, 210

to death or thraldom far away.

Black was the shadow of that day

for ever on his heart, and doubt

still gnawed him as he went about

in wilderness wandring, or at night 215

oft sleepless, thinking that she might

ere evil came have timely fled

into the woods: she was not dead,

she lived, she would return again

to seek him, and would deem him slain. 220

Therefore at whiles he left the lair,

and secretly, alone, would peril dare,

and come to his old house at night,

broken and cold, without fire or light,

and naught but grief renewed would gain, 225

watching and waiting there in vain.

In vain, or worse - for many spies

had Morgoth, many lurking eyes

well used to pierce the deepest dark;

and Gorlim's coming they would mark 230

and would report. There came a day

when once more Gorlim crept that way,

down the deserted weedy lane

at dusk of autumn sad with rain

and cold wind whining. Lo! a light 235

at window fluttering in the night

amazed he saw; and drawing near,

between faint hope and sudden fear,

he looked within. 'Twas Eilinel!

Though changed she was, he knew her well. 240

With grief and hunger she was worn,

her tresses tangled, raiment torn;

her gentle eyes with tears were dim,

as soft she wept: 'Gorlim, Gorlim!

Thou canst not have forsaken me. 245

Then slain, alas! thou slain must be!

And I must linger cold, alone,

and loveless as a barren stone! '

One cry he gave - and then the light

blew out, and in the wind of night 250

wolves howled; and on his shoulder fell

suddenly the griping hands of hell.

There Morgoth's servants fast him caught

and he was cruelly bound, and brought

to Sauron captain of the host, 255

the lord of werewolf and of ghost,

most foul and fell of all who knelt

at Morgoth's throne. In might he dwelt

on Gaurhoth Isle; but now had ridden

with strength abroad, by Morgoth bidden 260

to find the rebel Barahir.

He sat in dark encampment near,

and thither his butchers dragged their prey.

There now in anguish Gorlim lay:

with bond on neck, on hand and foot, 165

to bitter torment he was put,

to break his will and him constrain

to buy with treason end of pain.

But naught to them would he reveal

of Barahir, nor break the seal 270

of faith that on his tongue was laid;

until at last a pause was made,

and one came softly to his stake,

a darkling form that stooped, and spake

to him of Eilinel his wife. 275

'Wouldst thou,' he said, 'forsake thy life,

who with few words might win release

for her, and thee, and go in peace,

and dwell together far from war,

friends of the King? What wouldst thou more?' 280

And Gorlim, now long worn with pain,

yearning to see his wife again

(whom well he weened was also caught

in Sauron's net), allowed the thought

to grow, and faltered in his troth. 285

Then straight, half willing and half loath,

they brought him to the seat of stone

where Sauron sat. He stood alone

before that dark and dreadful face,

and Sauron said: 'Come, mortal base! 290

What do I hear? That thou wouldst dare

to barter with me? Well, speak fair!

What is thy price?' And Gorlim low

bowed down his head, and with great woe,

word on slow word, at last implored 295

that merciless and faithless lord

that he might free depart, and might

again find Eilinel the White,

and dwell with her, and cease from war

against the King. He craved no more. 300

Then Sauron smiled, and said: 'Thou thrall!

The price thou askest is but small

for treachery and shame so great!

I grant it surely! Well, I wait:

Come! Speak now swiftly and speak true!' 305

Then Gorlim wavered, and he drew

half back; but Sauron's daunting eye

there held him, and he dared not lie:

as he began, so must he wend

from first false step to faithless end: 310

he all must answer as he could,

betray his lord and brotherhood,

and cease, and fall upon his face.

Then Sauron laughed aloud. 'Thou base,

thou cringing worm! Stand up, 315

and hear me! And now drink the cup

that I have sweetly blent for thee!

Thou fool: a phantom thou didst see

that I, I Sauron, made to snare

thy lovesick wits. Naught else was there. 320

Cold 'tis with Sauron's wraiths to wed!

Thy Eilinel! She is long since dead,

dead, food of worms less low than thou.

And yet thy boon I grant thee now:

to Eilinel thou soon shalt go, 325

and lie in her bed, no more to know

of war - or manhood. Have thy pay! '

And Gorlim then they dragged away,

and cruelly slew him; and at last

in the dank mould his body cast, 330

where Eilinel long since had laid

in the burned woods by butchers slain.

Thus Gorlim died an evil death,

and cursed himself with dying breath,

and Barahir at last was caught 335

in Morgoth's snare; for set.at naught

by treason was the ancient grace

that guarded long that lonely place,

Tarn Aeluin: now all laid bare

were secret paths and hidden lair. 340

*

3. OF BEREN SON OF BARAHIR & HIS ESCAPE.

Dark from the North now blew the cloud;

the winds of autumn cold and loud

hissed in the heather; sad and grey

Aeluin's mournful water lay.

'Son Beren', then said Barahir, 345

'Thou knowst the rumour that we hear

of strength from the Gaurhoth that is sent

against us; and our food nigh spent.

On thee the lot falls by our law

to go forth now alone to draw 350

what help thou canst from the hidden few

that feed us still, and what is new

to learn. Good fortune go with thee!

In speed return, for grudgingly

we spare thee from our brotherhood, 355

so small: and Gorlim in the wood

is long astray or dead. Farewell!'

As Beren went, still like a knell

resounded in his heart that word,

the last of his father that he heard. 360

Through moor and fen, by tree and briar

he wandered far: he saw the fire

of Sauron's camp, he heard the howl

of hunting Orc and wolf a-prowl,

and turning back, for long the way, 365

benighted in the forest lay.

In weariness he then must sleep,

fain in a badger-hole to creep,

and yet he heard (or dreamed it so)