You Spend your Life Alone in the Wild,
Brought to Rivendell when you were a Child.
Your Father Died when you were Young,
Brought up to use the Elven Tongue.
All that is Gold does not Glitter,
Not all those who Wonder are Lost,
The Old that is Strong does not Wither,
Deep Roots are not Reached by the Frost.
From the Ashes a Fire shall be Woken,
A Light from the Shadows shall Spring,
Renewed shall be Blade that was Broken,
The Crownless again shall be King.
Receive the Shards of Narsil,
And give them a new Name.
Flame of the West: Andúril,
The Throne you shall Reclaim.