It’s just not Tolkien unless someone is singing, usually at length. Jameson put the idea into my head of writing some verse that Alaglîr himself might have sung as he journeyed to Amon Tira (you know, when he Eye-of-Sauroned yet another Travel role and got himself even more ridiculously weary?). Unsurprisingly, it’s fairly gloomy, but I’m kind of proud of it all the same.
I am still taking requests, if there is a particular moment from last night’s game that you’d like to see recorded in poetry or song. I’ll even take requests for particular Middle-earth-appropriate verse forms or pastiches; this is how English teachers amuse themselves.
Fair, fair are the North-lands, where the ruins of Men sleeping lie;
Far, far are the forests, where my kin ‘neath the shadowed trees fly.
West, west fly the Sea-gulls, with a sighing that shivers my heart;
West, west sails the White Ship, evermore from this land to depart.
Lorn, lorn are the Lone-lands, and the Weather Hills silent watch stand;
Still, still lie the watch-towers, barren now of their builders’ command.
Dark, dark is the Mirkwood, whence my journey so hopefully sped;
Far, far ’cross the mountains, to the mournful downs has my path led.
Deep, deep slumbers Fornost, seat of Men in their glory of old;
Stark, stark are the pale stones, keeping stories too grim to be told.
Bright, bright are the mallorn that in Lórien sing to the sky;
Fast, fast flee the summers, and the golden leaves tremble and sigh.
Long, long have I journeyed, for the farthest of wonders to see;
On, on would I travel, where the West-lands spill into the Sea.
O caught, caught is my heart now! for the woods of the birth my heart yearns,
But fain, fain will I wander, though the wanderer seldom returns.