Seasons

In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring.

Ah! The sight and smell of the Spring in Nantasarion!

And I said that was good.

I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand.

Ah! The light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir!

And I thought that was best.

To the beeches of Neldoreth I came in the Autumn.

Ah! The gold and red and the sighing of leaves in the Autumn in Taur-na-neldor!

Theoden's Fall

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,

The swords shining in the South-kingdom.

Steeds went striding to the stoning land

As wind in the morning. War was kindled.

There Theoden fell, Thengling mighty,

To his golden halls and green pastures

In the Northern fields never returning,

High lord of the host. Harding and Guthlaf,

Theoden

From dark Dunharrow in the dim morning

With thane and captain rode Thengel's son:

To Edoras he came, the ancient halls

Of the Mark-wardens mist-enshrouded;

Golden timbers were in gloom mantled.

Farewell he bade to his free people,

Hearth and high-seat, and the hallowed places,

Where long he had feasted ere the light faded.

Namárië

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,

Yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!

Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier

Mi oromardi lissë-miruvóreva

Andúnë pella, Vardo tellumar

Nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni

Omaryo airetári-lírinen.

Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?

Lebennin

Silver flow the streams from Colos to Erui

In the green fields of Lebennin!

Tall grows the grass there. In the wind from the Sea

The white lilies sway,

And the golden bells are shaken of mallos and alfirin

In the green fields of Lebennin,

In the wind from the Sea!

Boromir's call

    Seek for the Sword that was broken:

    In Imladris it dwells;

    There shall be counsels taken

    Stronger than Morgul-spells.

    There shall be shown a token

    That doom is near at hand,

    For Isildur's bane shall waken,

    And the Halfling forth shall stand.

Galadriel's Song Of Eldamar

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:

Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.

Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,

And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.

Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,

In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.

There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,

While here beyond the Sundering Seas now falls the Elven-tears.

Gandalf The Grey Pilgrim

Many are my names in many countries,

Mithrandir among the Elves,

Tharkûn to the Dwarves;

Olórin I was in my youth in the West

that is forgotten,

In the south Incánus,

in the North Gandalf;

to the East I go not.

The Little House Of Lost Play (Mar Vanwa Tyalieva)

We knew that land once, You and I,

and once we wandered there

in the long days now long gone by,

a dark child and a fair.

Was it on the paths of firelight thought

in winter cold and white,

or in the blue-spun twilit hours

of little early tucked-up beds

Elbereth

Snow-white! Snow-white! O lady clear!

O Queen beyond the Western Sea!

O Light to us that wander here

Amid the world of woven trees!

Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!

Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath.

Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee

In a far land beyond the Sea.

Gil-galad

Gil-galad was an Elven-king.

Of him the harpers sadly sing:

The last whose realm was fair and free

Between the mountains and the sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen.

His shining helm afar was seen.

The countless stars of heaven's field

Were mirrored in his silver shield.

Earendil

Earendil was a mariner

that tarried in Arvernien;

he built a boat of timber felled

in Nimbrethil to journey in;

her sails he wove of silver fair,

of silver were her lanterns made,

her prow was fashioned like a swan

and light upon her banners laid.