A/N: When I started this I didn't think it would run to more than 30 or so
lines. Then it kind of...exploded. Oh well. I've always had a soft spot
for the poor Teleri, and most fics about the First Kinslaying seem to be
written from the Noldor perspective. Just thought I'd even things up a
bit. : )

Disclaimer: Not mine!

The light was fair on quays of pearl
In Swanhaven, in Valinor;
On silver strand the elf-wrought jewels
Lay glittering in every pool,
While graceful ships with carven prows,
And sea foam flying from their bows,
Went sailing 'neath the crystal stars
And skimmed the waves in Eldamar.

The Elven-folk of Olwë King
Were skilled in craft of shipbuilding.
Their hulls were white as niphredil,
As snow that crowns Taniquetil.
In silken sails finely wrought
The wayward foam-flecked wind they caught;
And ships more fair were never made
By elven hands in Elder Days.
Nor mariners more glad of heart
Or keen and nimble at their art
Were ever seen on sea or shore—
No shadow, yet, on Valinor.

But in the south a terror lurked
In spider form and deeds She worked
With He who into darkness came,
Ere Middle-earth received its frame,
That plunged the land in shadow deep
While hallowed jewels He stole to keep
In deep-delved pits and fortress strong
The flawless light before the dawn
Of Isil white or gold Anar—
The Silmarils of Fëanor.

Then he who wrought the precious stones
Was moved to wrath, but not alone;
For words he spoke of sword and flame,
Of dire wrongs, and vengeance gained.
With iron will and silver tongue
He wove a potent spell among
All who harkened to his voice;
And many made the baneful choice
To leave the lands of bliss and light
Now turned to sorrow and take flight
Across the sea to Hither Lands,
To wrest the jewels from Morgoth's hands.

And so they came to pearly quays
And gem-strewn shores 'round starlit bay
With desperate aim and darkened hearts.
But still their kin refused to part
With swan-prowed ships of timber white
They loved and wrought before the blight
Of hallowed trees and joy unstained
In Guarded Realm; but naught was gained.
For Noldor will was stern as stone
As adamant as ancient bones
Of icy mountains high and steep,
And swords they drew, their oaths to keep.

The glitter of the naked blades
Outshone the starlight on the waves;
And battle din and dying cries
Eclipsed the ocean's wistful sighs;
While glistening in all the pools,
With price more dear than fair-wrought jewels,
Lay blood new-spilled by kinsmen's hands—
Death had come to Deathless Lands.

The lovely ships of white and grey,
Now shadow-stained, they stole away
To dare the lashing storm-hurled waves
And gales fierce of ocean's rage;
While mariners and builders skilled
Who wrought the craft ere light was killed
Were left behind on mournful shores—
And few will sail anymore.
For nimble hands are still and cold
And glassy eyes no more behold
The tossing sea or diamond stars
Or swan-like ships on Eldamar;
And silver voices clear and fair
That wreathed the balmy sea-kissed air
With laughter bright and flowing song
Are stricken dumb, the music gone.

Away and far on barren strand
'Neath blackened sky in lightless land,
The graceful ships of silver-white,
Wrought with love in days of light,
Were cast aside and set ablaze;
And fire-glare stained darkling waves.

Now much is turned to ash and smoke
That once of light and beauty spoke.
The ships devoured by savage flame;
The mariners lie cold and slain;
In Alqualondë mortal sun
Weeps faded light on tears that run
For gutted joy and trust betrayed,
A withered dawn, a bloodied blade,
A silver tree, a killing frost;
And all once fair that now is lost.
For much that was has fled and gone;
Time-dimmed shadows, save in song.