Dawn hath passed, and too the birds;
The White Gulls to Valinor, away!
Yet no stars have risen this fall of day.
White the glint upon thy breast,
Elven stone- thy hearst doth rest,
Thy love is this, and this is ours:
Beseiged by troubled, werary hours.
A year pass'd within one turn,
The Ships hath left! Why do thee yearn
For Valinor, of kinstrife?
Were thee not mortal nor his wife...
Then among thy friends to dance and sing,
Beyond the autumn, re-birth of spring,
Below the moon and stars and sun,
O'er silver laugh and run.
Yet memory would prove too real,
Would ye forget to love to feel,
And in thy heart thy choice was just,
Live long love, such passion, lust.