Did Yoink just yoink his poetry away?
I suppose none can say
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In halls of gold and caverns great
An evil lurking, none can sate
The King is Crowned, and Arkenstone
Sits on its mighty, daunting throne.
The heir has come to claim his own,
Of Durin's blood and Durin's bone,
And on his brow is wreathed a crown
And all have heard of his renown.
The humans grant him barge and shield,
The Elves put Spearmen to the field
And goblins, orcs, all things of night
Call curse on him 'neath Sauron's sight.
A sword he carries, know it well!
Its tale in blood the King shall tell
And falling with a fire behind
Save all his kin and racial kind.
See now the tomb in which he sleeps
While wolves the skies devour,
But none beneath the mountain weeps
For Thorin, and his finest hour!
-----
She came to me as were a dream
Of lilies on the stream,
And all about her shadow hair
Was cast, both dark and fair.
And there I lay, my heart full pierced
By grief unknown and sweet.
Her hand took hold of mine, and light
Was in my eyes, so bright
It took my breath away with joy -
What grief could this alloy!
But looking at her face, perceived
It was for death she grieved.
For in her aspect, fair and full
No darkness crept to dull
The shining brilliance of her skin
Nor cast on her a sin.
But I would grow, as all men do
From youth to age and death.
I took that hand and clasped it fast,
Like clutching moonbeams fleet
And, as a dreamer's wont to do
I kissed it, and knew true.
The stars would wither in the sky
But her... she'd never die.
Her tears would fall as waters warm,
Upon my tomb she'd mourn,
And all the rivers twixt us be
Perpetual as she.
I would have wept, had it not been
Her love about me were.
And so I laid on her a vow
That never would I break -
Her virtues many, I would love
But I would take death's glove
And wrap it 'round my fist
If she by me were kissed.
----
Yes, so someone has been reading Tolkien again.