Mist rises from the thundering falls
While stars and moon give blessing
To Imladris' immortal halls,
The dew its grounds caressing
Trees climb shear enclosing cliffs
Like sentinels and towers
Grey lawns by lamps, the Noldor's gifts,
Are lit, and strewn with flowers
That spread the scents of Valinor
On evening winds, ambrosia,
Calling Eldar out of doors
To celebrate all Arda.
Our spired halls amidst the trees,
Our many-columned haven,
Embraces nature's mysteries
With carvings finely-graven.
Here yet we dwell, the ancient race
Long exiled from Aman
And here we flourish still and face
The Shadow and fight on.
Keen swords and arms are laid in store
Forged by Eregion's crafts
Still wielded by fell warriors
Who fought in Ages past
In Gondolin, in Nargothrond,
In Doriath the fair
And though most of our kin are gone
We will not join them there
While yet there are new songs to sing
And battles still to fight
And tales of ancient suffering
And joy to give us light
For we remember, we who dwell
In this deep-cloven vale
That much remains to do and tell
Before the last ship sails.