A fearsome doom, to die in fear
In the Dead-haunted dark,
Was that of Baldor, Brego’s son,
Heir to the Riddermark.
He boasted he would go that way
When full of drink and pride,
But in the dread Paths of the Dead,
The warrior fell and died.
He was not stricken by a foe
And laid in grassy mound,
But clawing at an unmoved door
His mail-clad bones were found.
Only the Heir of Isildur
And those who marched with him,
Could go upon that haunted way,
And see that sight so grim.
Where grows no simbelmyne,
He lies, the hapless one.
Thus Rohan lost an heir of kings
In Baldor, Brego’s son.