Idril’s Lament

by Apr 26, 2004Poetry

Oh lovely towers
And graceful bowers
Made of whitest stone
Against other cities
You yourself stood alone
Strong and clear
I held so dear
Silver trumpets calling me home
Our fortress long stood against
The place where shadows roam
Yet all things come to an end
And our trumpets no longer lend
The warning to keep away
Oh Gondolin! My heart and home
Stands no more this day

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Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Poetry 5 Idril’s Lament

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