Alas, Eowyn, song of my heart,
beautiful you are, though cold, and tart.
I, Faramir, I love thee so,
and naught would I see you go.
Eowyn, fair shieldmaiden, thine eyes glisten like rain.
So, what keeps your love, that my heart be in pain?
Thy hearest my crying, but hinders it not.
Is is so long since thou hath given your heart?
Fair flower of Rohan, wilt thou not marry?
Should you live your life alone, and weary?
For I love thee, but thou art cold, lest we part.
Alas, Eowyn, song of my heart.