The Bidding of the Minstrel lyrics

Sing us yet more of Eärendel the wandering,

chant us a lay of his white-oared ship,

more marvellous-cunning than mortal man's pondering,

foamily musical out of the deep.

Sing us a tale of immortal sea-yearning

the Eldar one made ere the change of the light,

weaving a winelike spell, and a burning

wonder of spray and the odours of night;

of murmurous gloamings out on far oceans;

of his tossing at anchor off islets forlorn

to the unsleeping waves' never-ending sea-motions;

of bellying sails when a wind was born,

and the gurgling bubble of tropical water

tinkled from under the ringéd stem,

and thousands of miles was his ship from those wrought her

a petrel, a sea-bird, a white-wingéd gem,

gallantry bent on measureless faring

ere she came homing in sea-laden flight,

circuitous, lingering, restlessly daring,

coming to haven unlooked for, at night.

But the music is broken, the words half-forgotten,

the sunlight was faded, the moon is grown old,

the Elven ships foundered or weed-swathed and rotten,

the fire and the wonder of hearts is acold.

Who now can tell, and what harp can accompany

with melodies strange enough, rich enough tunes,

pale with the magic of cavernous harmony,

loud with shore-music of beaches and dunes,

how slender his boat; of what glimmering timber;

how ther sails were all silvern and taper her mast,

and silver her throat with foam and her limber

flanks as she swanlike floated past!

The song I can sing is but shreds one remembers

Of golden imaginings fashioned in sleep,

A whispered tale told by the withering embers

Of old things far off that but few hearts keep.

• Artist:J. R. R. Tolkien