1030lay broken among barren stones.
Dor-na-Fauglith, Land of Thirst,
they after named it, waste accurst,
the raven-haunted roofless grave
of many fair and many brave.
1035Thereon the stony slopes look forth from Deadly Nightshade falling north,
from sombre pines with pinions vast, black-plumed and drear, as many a mast of sable-shrouded ships of death
1040slow wafted on a ghostly breath.
Thence Beren grim now gazes out
across the dunes and shifting drought, and sees afar the frowning towers
where thunderous Thangorodrim lowers.
1045The hungry horse there drooping stood, proud Gnomish steed; it feared the wood; upon the haunted ghastly plain
no horse would ever stride again.
‘Good steed of master ill,’ he said,
1050‘farewell now here! Lift up thy head, and get thee gone to Sirion’s vale
back as we came, past island pale
where Th? once reigned, to waters sweet and grasses long about thy feet.
1055And if Curufin no more thou find, grieve not! but free with hart and hind go wander, leaving work and war,
and dream thee back in Valinor,
whence came of old thy mighty race
1060from Tavros’ mountain-fencéd chase.’
There still sat Beren, and he sang
and loud his lonely singing rang.
Though Orcs should hear, or wolf a-prowl, or any of the creatures foul
1065within the shade that slunk and stared of Taur-na-Fuin, nought he cared
who now took leave of light and day,
grim-hearted, bitter, fierce and fey.
‘Farewell now here, ye leaves of trees,
1070your music in the morning-breeze!
Farewell now blade and bloom and grass that see the changing seasons pass;
ye waters murmuring over stone,
and meres that silent stand alone!
1075Farewell now mountain, vale, and plain!
Farewell now wind and frost and rain,
and mist and cloud, and heaven’s air;
ye star and moon so blinding-fair
that still shall look down from the sky 1080on the wide earth, though Beren die— though Beren die not, and yet deep,
deep, whence comes of those that weep
no dreadful echo, lie and choke
in everlasting dark and smoke.
1085‘Farewell sweet earth and northern sky, for ever blest, since here did lie,
and here with lissom limbs did run
beneath the moon, beneath the sun,
Lúthien Tinúviel
1090more fair than mortal tongue can tell.
Though all to ruin fell the world,
and were dissolved and backward hurled unmade into the old abyss,
yet were its making good, for this—
1095the dawn, the dusk, the earth, the sea— that Lúthien on a time should be!’
His blade he lifted high in hand,
and challenging alone did stand
before the threat of Morgoth’s power;
1100and dauntless cursed him, hall and tower, o’ershadowing hand and grinding foot,
beginning, end, and crown and root;
then turned to strike forth down the slope abandoning fear, forsaking hope.
1105‘A, Beren, Beren!’ came a sound, ‘almost too late have I thee found!
O proud and fearless hand and heart,
not yet farewell, not yet we part!
Not thus do those of elven race
1110forsake the love that they embrace.
A love is mine, as great a power
as thine, to shake the gate and tower
of death with challenge weak and frail that yet endures, and will not fail
1115nor yield, unvanquished were it hurled beneath the foundations of the world.
Beloved fool! escape to seek
from such pursuit; in might so weak
to trust not, thinking it well to save 1120from love thy loved, who welcomes grave and torment sooner than in guard
of kind intent to languish, barred,
wingless and helpless him to aid
for whose support her love was made!’
1125Thus back to him came Lúthien: they met beyond the ways of Men;
upon the brink of terror stood
between the desert and the wood.
He looked on her, her lifted face
1130beneath his lips in sweet embrace: ‘Thrice now mine oath I curse,’ he said, ‘that under shadow thee hath led!
But where is Huan, where the hound
to whom I trusted, whom I bound
1135by love of thee to keep thee well from deadly wandering into hell?’
‘I know not! But good Huan’s heart
is wiser, kinder, than thou art,
grim lord, more open unto prayer!
1140Yet long and long I pleaded there, until he brought me, as I would,
upon thy trail—a palfrey good
would Huan make, of flowing pace:
thou wouldst have laughed to see us race, 1145as Orc on werewolf ride like fire night after night through fen and mire, through waste and wood! But when I heard thy singing clear—(yea, every word
of Lúthien one rashly cried,
1150and listening evil fierce defied) –, he set me down, and sped away;
but what he would I cannot say.’
Ere long they knew, for Huan came,
his great breath panting, eyes like flame, 1155in fear lest her whom he forsook to aid some hunting evil took
ere he was nigh. Now there he laid
before their feet, as dark as shade,
two grisly shapes that he had won
1160from that tall isle in Sirion: a wolfhame huge—its savage fell
was long and matted, dark the spell
that drenched the dreadful coat and skin; the werewolf cloak of Draugluin;
1165the other was a batlike garb with mighty fingered wings, a barb
like iron nail at each joint’s end—
such wings as their dark cloud extend
against the moon, when in the sky
1170from Deadly Nightshade screeching fly Th?’s messengers.
‘What hast thou brought,
good Huan? What thy hidden thought?
Of trophy of prowess and strong deed,
when Th? thou vanquishedst, what need
1175here in the waste?’ Thus Beren spoke, and once more words in Huan woke:
his voice was like the deeptoned bells that ring in Valmar’s citadels:
‘Of one fair gem thou must be thief,
1180Morgoth’s or Thingol’s, loath or lief; thou must here choose twixt love and oath!
If vow to break is still thee loath,
then Lúthien must either die
alone, or death with thee defie
1185beside thee, marching on your fate that hidden before you lies in wait.
Hopeless the quest, but not yet mad,
unless thou, Beren, run thus clad
in mortal raiment, mortal hue,
1190witless and redeless, death to woo.
‘Lo! good was Felagund’s device,
but may be bettered, if advice
of Huan ye will dare to take,
and swift a hideous change will make
1195to forms most curséd, foul and vile, of werewolf of the Wizard’s Isle,
of monstrous bat’s envermined fell
with ghostly clawlike wings of hell.
‘To such dark straits, alas! now brought
1200are ye I love, for whom I fought.
Nor further with you can I go—
whoever did a great hound know
in friendship at a werewolf’s side
to Angband’s grinning portals stride?
1205Yet my heart tells that at the gate what there ye find, ’twill be my fate
myself to see, though to that door
my feet shall bear me nevermore.
Darkened is hope and dimmed my eyes,
1210I see not clear what further lies; yet maybe backwards leads your path
beyond all hope to Doriath,