There is a dwelling in the valley
falling to decay more daily.
I come to walk among the ruins,
remembering elves; their laughing gaily.
Grave statues stand here overrun,
covered now in hoary thorn.
I wander through deserted groves
but for swirls of mist this morn.
I saunter yet a while through rooms,
wild roses creeping up the walls.
I enter great halls filled with light.
I almost think I hear their calls.
I spy a silver ewer there
among the scattered autumn gold.
A banner tattered in the wind,
its call to valor now grown cold.
I wish I’d stayed here longer when
they danced among the golden trees!
How I wish I’d learned their songs
before they sailed o’er silver seas.
Alas for me, their time is spent,
no more to haunt the hearth and hill.
Yet their music I can still perceive
flowing sweet from yonder rill.
Forever gone from this land;
I left to contemplate their fate.
A city silent in the cliffs.
Bereft behind unbidden gate.