Beneath the still and silent shade of memory’s bitter hue
She walks this way, again, once more, among the paths she knew,
And as the cold of sunless sun abandons the old dawn
She walks, with silent tears cried, lost, alone, forlorn.
Among the winding ways she walks, clad in deep blood red;
Along the secret glads she climbs, for now her love is dead.
And as the evening turns to winter’s night without a star
She mourns for love, her love, her king, in the lands afar
And as she feels the night begin to fade
Her beauty forever lost in the deeps of mortal shade
The memories of her saddend heart
Abandon this harsh world of art.
And so she lies, upon the land that one did laugh and sing
And remembers now that happy day, in Lorien in Spring.