the narrow bridge, a slavering hate,
an awful werewolf fierce and great:
475pale Draugluin, the old grey lord of wolves and beasts of blood abhorred, that fed on flesh of Man and Elf
beneath the chair of Th? himself.
No more in silence did they fight.
480Howling and baying smote the night, till back by the chair where he had fed to die the werewolf yammering fled.
‘Huan is there’ he gasped and died,
and Th? was filled with wrath and pride.
485‘Before the mightiest he shall fall, before the mightiest wolf of all’,
so thought he now, and thought he knew how fate long spoken should come true.
Now there came slowly forth and glared
490into the night a shape long-haired, dank with poison, with awful eyes
wolvish, ravenous; but there lies
a light therein more cruel and dread
than ever wolvish eyes had fed.
495More huge were its limbs, its jaws more wide, its fangs more gleaming-sharp, and dyed with venom, torment, and with death.
The deadly vapour of its breath
swept on before it. Swooning dies
500the song of Lúthien, and her eyes are dimmed and darkened with a fear,
cold and poisonous and drear.
Thus came Th?, as wolf more great
than e’er was seen from Angband’s gate 505to the burning south, than ever lurked in mortal lands or murder worked.
Sudden he sprang, and Huan leaped
aside in shadow. On he swept
to Lúthien lying swooning faint.
510To her drowning senses came the taint of his foul breathing, and she stirred; dizzily she spake a whispered word,
her mantle brushed across his face.
He stumbled staggering in his pace.
515Out leaped Huan. Back he sprang.
Beneath the stars there shuddering rang the cry of hunting wolves at bay,
the tongue of hounds that fearless slay.
Backward and forth they leaped and ran 520feinting to flee, and round they span, and bit and grappled, and fell and rose.
Then suddenly Huan holds and throws
his ghastly foe; his throat he rends,
choking his life. Not so it ends.
525From shape to shape, from wolf to worm, from monster to his own demon form,
Th? changes, but that desperate grip
he cannot shake, nor from it slip.
No wizardry, nor spell, nor dart,
530no fang, nor venom, nor devil’s art could harm that hound that hart and boar had hunted once in Valinor.
Nigh the foul spirit Morgoth made
and bred of evil shuddering strayed
535from its dark house, when Lúthien rose and shivering looked upon his throes.
‘O demon dark, O phantom vile
of foulness wrought, of lies and guile, here shalt thou die, thy spirit roam
540quaking back to thy master’s home his scorn and fury to endure;
thee he will in the bowels immure
of groaning earth, and in a hole
everlastingly thy naked soul
545shall wail and gibber—this shall be unless the keys thou render me
of thy black fortress, and the spell
that bindeth stone to stone thou tell, and speak the words of opening.’
550With gasping breath and shuddering he spake, and yielded as he must,
and vanquished betrayed his master’s trust.
Lo! by the bridge a gleam of light,
like stars descended from the night
555to burn and tremble here below.
There wide her arms did Lúthien throw, and called aloud with voice as clear
as still at whiles may mortal hear
long elvish trumpets o’er the hill
560echo, when all the world is still.
The dawn peered over mountains wan;
their grey heads silent looked thereon.
The hill trembled; the citadel
crumbled, and all its towers fell;
565the rocks yawned and the bridge broke, and Sirion spumed in sudden smoke.
Like ghosts the owls were flying seen
hooting in the dawn, and bats unclean
went skimming dark through the cold airs 570shrieking thinly to find new lairs in Deadly Nightshade’s branches dread.
The wolves whimpering and yammering fled like dusky shadows. Out there creep
pale forms and ragged as from sleep.
575crawling, and shielding blinded eyes: the captives in fear and in surprise
from dolour long in clinging night
beyond all hope set free to light.
A vampire shape with pinions vast
580screeching leaped from the ground, and passed, its dark blood dripping on the trees;
and Huan neath him lifeless sees
a wolvish corpse—for Th? had flown
to Taur-na-Fuin, a new throne
585and darker stronghold there to build.
The captives came and wept and shrilled
their piteous cries of thanks and praise.
But Lúthien anxious-gazing stays.
Beren comes not. At length she said:
590‘Huan, Huan, among the dead must we then find him whom we sought,
for love of whom we toiled and fought?’
Then side by side from stone to stone
o’er Sirion they climbed. Alone
595unmoving they him found, who mourned by Felagund, and never turned
to see what feet drew halting nigh.
‘A! Beren, Beren!’ came her cry,
‘almost too late have I thee found?
600Alas! that here upon the ground the noblest of the noble race
in vain thy anguish doth embrace!
Alas! in tears that we should meet
who once found meeting passing sweet!’
605Her voice such love and longing filled he raised his eyes, his mourning stilled, and felt his heart new-turned to flame for her that through peril to him came.
‘O Lúthien, O Lúthien,
610more fair than any child of Men, O loveliest maid of Elfinesse,
what might of love did thee possess
to bring thee here to terror’s lair!
O lissom limbs and shadowy hair,
615O flower-entwinéd brows so white, O slender hands in this new light!’
She found his arms and swooned away
just at the rising of the day.
******
Songs have recalled the Elves have sung 620in old forgotten elven tongue how Lúthien and Beren strayed
by the banks of Sirion. Many a glade
they filled with joy, and there their feet passed by lightly, and days were sweet.
625Though winter hunted through the wood still flowers lingered where she stood.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
the birds are unafraid to dwell
and sing beneath the peaks of snow
630where Beren and where Lúthien go.
The isle in Sirion they left behind;
but there on hill-top might one find
a green grave, and a stone set,
and there there lie the white bones yet 635of Felagund, of Finrod’s son— unless that land is changed and gone,
or foundered in unfathomed seas,
while Felagund laughs beneath the trees in Valinor, and comes no more
640to this grey world of tears and war.
To Nargothrond no more he came;
but thither swiftly ran the fame,
of their king dead, of Th? o’erthrown, of the breaking of the towers of stone.
645For many now came home at last who long ago to shadow passed;
and like a shadow had returned
Huan the hound, and scant had earned
or praise or thanks of master wroth;
650yet loyal he was, though he was loath.
The halls of Narog clamours fill
that vainly Celegorm would still.
There men bewailed their fallen king,
crying that a maiden dared that thing
655which sons of F?anor would not do.
‘Let us slay these faithless lords untrue!’