The coaxing lull of twilight hue
Is every hope I ever knew,
And this land hold my hope here,
As pay doth the day, the week, the year.
What time could marr the dawn
As the ever day is born,
And the golden boughs hold golden hope,
And life and death are here awoke.
The saddened song of the river cries,
A lament now, but never dies,
Yet spring was passed so long ago,
O spring and summer whence forth did ye go?
And as autumn doth sieze this land of all,
The wind doth dance, the leaves do fall,
And still the land that I love best,
Of Lorien, of timless rest.