Lay of the Fall of Gondolin

A lament for the lost city.

This began as a mere experiment in interior rhyme at 11:45 one night. By 1:07, it had become this, and I never did do my physics homework. I've never posted my poetry before; I would certainly like to know if you liked it or not.

Gondolin is not my property; it belongs to Turgon, and he to J. R. R. Tolkien. However, the poem itself belongs to me, and I would appreciate it if you informed me before archiving it somewhere. Thank you.


Lay of the Fall of Gondolin

The sun was bright, and warm the light on Gondolin the fair

When Turgon King, of whom they sing, sat high on silver chair.

How white the walls and high the halls of Gondolin that was!

Above the wars, it shone of stars, but now no longer does.

O elven king! Your rule is great

But 'ware of Ulmo's call:

Love not too much what thou hast wrought

Lest it to darkness fall.

In peace they stayed and never strayed from Gondolin their home

For leaguer kept, a princess wept, and gained her leave to roam.

Returning well, Ar-Feniel brought home with her a son

Both tall of stance and sharp of glance: the city's doom had come.

O Maeglin! Son of dark and light

You came and may not part,

For love of Idril Silver-foot

Has darkened in your heart.

His love grew strong, he waited long, but love she never gave

To him, and dark then was his heart, although his deeds were brave.

To mortal man went Idril's hand, and Maeglin's anger grew;

In captive fear, to Morgoth's ear, he whispered all he knew.

O Morgoth! Melkor once you were,

O captain dark and fell

Eru's favor once you had

But now in darkness dwell.

At Morgoth's call came Balrogs tall, with swords of evil flame

They burned with hate and to the Gates of Gondolin they came.

The gates they broke, the city woke, and into terror fell

An elf-lord slew the first one through, but gave his life as well.

Ecthelion! Your silver sword

Did vanquish well your foe

But bitter was the price you paid

Your song doth end in woe.

His heart grown cold, dark Maeglin stole fair Idril and her son

But Tuor strove to save his love, and killed the faithless one.

To orkish bane and dragon flame so many elves fell prey

Though courage quailed and children wailed, they led the rest away.

O Gondolin! Your banners proud

Lie mired in the mud

And Turgon who your high gates wrought

Hath bought them with his blood.

A shadow fell, but Glorfindel did stand upon the path

And there he fought in battle hot on Cirith Thoronath

The shadowed death, whose burning breath did thrice the elf-lord smite;

His honor won, the battle done, he perished in the night.

O Glorfindel! Your city burns

In fear your people flee

For darkness walks in Gondolin:

Thy people look to thee.

As Manwë warned, the people mourned for those they lost that day

For Turgon fell, and Glorfindel, and Ecthelion the fey

Now lost to time in all but rhyme is Gondolin the fair

Where now the walls, where now the halls, where now the silver chair?