What beauty, upon what melting hue
Was chanced to live within you
And how could aught but grief ever marr
Thy eyes as bright as silver star?
What water runs upon thy voice
That in single song of no choice
When is seen thee doth that one stand,
Enthral’d, in sway, in mystic land.
What crafted kiss lay upon thy lips,
And what thy hair’s deep light,
For Luthien, rare are thee,
Immortal beauty bright.