Lay of the Shieldmaid-The Rohirrim remember Éowyn in song

She rode to battle in the likeness of a man<br /> To have her share in the glory and honor of our land<br /> She sharpened her sword and burnished her shield<br /> The white horse on green flew proudly in the killing field<br /> She rode swift and strong as the song of slaying was sung<br /> Her eyes were aflame and her enemies were on the run<br /> But lo! The ground shook with the thunder of the earth<br /> From the East come monsters of unimaginable girth<br /> From the White Mountains to the green fields<br /> Their roar rendered the sky, as they marched for the kill.<br /> Into the fray, she rode, Eorl the Young reborn<br /> Her sword was keen; her steed was swift; glory adorned!<br /> She slew the great beast as she was thrown from her noble steed<br /> Ever strong, our warrior maiden, without a crown &#8216;though our queen<br /> <br /> They came from the east, Théoden&#8217;s bane; Sauron&#8217;s vile beasts<br /> Her heart was torn as she ran; the beast bore down upon his feast.<br /> She stood between, white beast and the Fell, erect and fey of countenance<br /> Her helmet was thrown, her hair of burnished gold; she did not blanch<br /> The beast bore down, as our maiden strong wielded a deadly blow<br /> In agony, the beast fell, what was left, no man would utter so bold<br /> Dark as night; that which stilled thought and shriveled bold hearts<br /> Eyes of red flame was all she saw, as she shielded herself from his angry wroth<br /> A weapon of terror, he wielded upon our maiden, though she did not flee<br /> Her shield was splintered in his final blow, but lo! The servant came to her need<br /> With a cry he plunged his sword into the fiend as Éowyn rose to end his life<br /> Her sword was shattered as our maiden fair, lay cold within death&#8217;s bite<br /> Her brother came and beheld her there, with a tormented soul he ran to war<br /> Men came and bore her away, broken in soul; though alive on death&#8217;s door<br /> <br /> In the Houses of Healing, she lay in cold repose, broken arm and tormented soul<br /> Dreams of slaying and death; her brother lay dead, so the whispers told<br /> Within her mind, she fought alone, our warrior maiden in death throes<br /> Darkened fiends, shadows in her mind, spoke of decay as death&#8217;s wind blows.<br /> But from the land of the living, came the hands of healing, lain upon our warrior<br /> Spoken words from the lips of a king, bringing Éowyn from death&#8217;s barrow<br /> But her heart was grieved, for she could not see, what renown she won in battle<br /> Long forgotten whispers, sorcerer&#8217;s woven words, like the poisons of an adder.<br /> Despoiling her heart, chilling her spring, she looked to the east as her spirit waned<br /> But hope would be renewed within her heart; the shadow would not be her bane<br /> For spring had come in the form of a man; warrior renowned in the land of Kings<br /> To the land under the trees, he took our warrior maiden, where living waters spring<br /> Fair was that green land, hidden from the sky, where hope and flowers bloomed<br /> On that day, glory was her name; we keep her within our hearts as hope looms.<br />
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