Far in the North neath hills of stone

in caverns black there was a throne

by fires illumined underground,

that winds of ice with moaning sound

made flare and flicker in dark smoke;

wavering bitter coils did choke

the sunless airs of dungeons deep

where evil things did couch and creep.

There sat a king:no Elfin race

nor mortal blood,nor kindly grace

of earth or heaven might he own,

far older,stronger than the stone

the world is built of,than the fire

that burns within more fierce and dire;

and throughts profound were in his heart:

a gloomy power that dwelt apart.

Unconquerable spears of steel

were at his nod.No rufh did feel

the legions of his marshalled hate,

on whom did wolf and raven wait;

and black the ravens sat and cried

Upn their banners black,and wide

was herd their hideous chanting dread

above the reek and trampled dead.

With fire and sword his ruin red

on all that would not bow the head

like lightning fell.The Northern land

lay groaning neath his ghastly land.

But still there lived in hiding cold

undunted,Barahir the bold,

of land beeved,of lordship shorn,

who once a prince of Men was born

nd now an outlaw lurked and lay

in the hard heth and woodland grey,

nd with him clung of faithfull men

but Beren his son nd other ten.

Yet small s was their hunted band

still fell and fearless was each hnd,

and strong deeds they wrought yet oft,

and loved the woods,whose ways more soft

them seemed than thralls of that black throne

to live and languish in halls of stone.

King Morgoth still pursed them sore

with men and dogs,and wolf and boar

with spells of madness filled he sent

to slay them as in the woods they wenr;

yet nought hurt them for many years,

until,in brief to tell wht tears

have oft bewailed in ages gone,

nor ever tears enough,was done

a deed unhappy;unaware

their feet were caught in Morgoth's snare.

Gorlim it was,who wearying

of toil and flight nd harrying,

one night by chance did turned his feet

o'er the dark fields by stealth to meet

with hidden friend within a dale,

and found a homestead looming pale

aganist the misty stars,all dark

save one smll window,whence a spark

of fitfull candle strayed without.

Therein he peeped,and filled with doubt

he sw,as in a dreaming deep

when longing cheats the heart in sleep,

his wife beside a dying fire

lament him lost; her thin attire

and greying hair and paling sheek

of tears and loneliness did speak.

"A!fair and gentile Eilinel,

whom I had throught in darkling hell

long since emprisoned!Ere I fled

I deemed I saw thee slain and dead

upon that night of sudden fear

when all I lost that I held dear":

thus thought his heavy heart amazed

outside in darkness as he gezed.

But ere he dares to call her name,

or ask how she escaped and came

to this far vale beneath the hills,

he heard a cry beneath the hills!

There hooted near a hunting owl

with boding voice.He hard the howl

of the wild wolves that followed him

and dogged his feet through shadows dim.

Him unrelenting,well he knew,

the hunt of Morgoth did pursue.

Lest Eilinel with him they slay

without a word he turned away,

and like a wild thing winding led

his devious ways o'er stony bed

of stream,ind over quaking fen,

until fr from the homes of men

he lay beside his fellows few

in a secret place;and darkness grew,

and waned,and still he wtched unsleeping,

and saw the dismal dawn come seeping

in dank heavens above gloomy trees.

A sickness held his soul for ease,

and hope,and even thraldom's chain

if he might find his wife again.

But all he throught twixt love of lord

and hatred of the king abhorred

and anguish for fair Eilimnel

who drooped alone,what tale shall tell?

Yet at he last,when many days
or brooding did his mind amaze,

he found the servants of the king,

and bade them to their master bring

a rebel who forgiveness sought,

if haply forgiveness ight be bought

with tiding of Barahir the bold,

and where his hidings and his hold

might best be found by night or day.

And thus sad Gorlim,led away

unto those dark deep-dolven halls,

before the knees of Morgoth falls,

and puts his trust in that cruel heart

wherein no truth had ever part.

Quoth Morgoth:"Eilinel the fair

thou shalt most surely find,and there

where she doth dwell and wait for thee

together shall ye ever be,

and sundered shall ye sigh no more.

This guerdon shall he have that bore

these tidings sweet,O traitor dear!

For Eilinel she dwells not here,

but in the shades of deth doth roam

widowed of husband and of home -

a wraith of that which might have been,

methinks,it is that thou hast seen!

Now shalt thou skest grimly gin;

thou shalt to the moonless mists of hell

descend and seek thy Eilinel."

Thus Gorlim died a bitter death

and cursed himself with dying breath,

and Barhir was caught and slain,

and all good deeds were mde in vain.

Bur Morgoth's guile for ever filed,

nor wholly o'er his foes prevailed,

and some were ever that still fought

unmaking that which mlice wrought

the lingering hope forlorn to nought

that lived amid the lonely wood;

yet Beren had by fortune good

long hunted far afield that dy,

and benighted in strange places lay

far from his fellows.In his sleep

he felt a dreadfull darkness creep

upon his heart,nd throught the trees

were bare and bent in mournful breeze;

no leaves they had,but ravens dark

sat thick as leaves on bough and bark,

and croaked,and as they croaked each neb

let fall gout of blood;a web

unseen entwindes him hand and limb,

until worn out,upon the rim

of stagnant pool he lay and shivered.

There saw he taht a shadow quivered

far out upon the water wan,

and gew to a fint form thereon


that glided O'er the silent lake,

and coming slowly,softly spake

and sadly said:"Lo!Gorlim here,

traitor betrayed,now stands!Nor fear,

but haste!For Morgoth's fingers close
upon thy father's throat.He knows

your secret tryst,your hidden lair',

and all the evil he laid bare

that he had done nd Morgoth wrought.

Then Beren waking swiftly sought

his sword and bow,and sped like wind

that cuts with knives the branches thinned

of autumn trees.t last the came,

his heart afire with burning flame,

where Barahir his father lay;

he came too late.At dawn of day

he found the homes of hunted men,

a wooded island in the fen,

and birds rose up in sudden sloud-

no fen-fowl were they crying loud.

The raven and the carrion-srow

sat in the alders all-row;

one croaked:"Ha!Beren comes too late",

and answered all:"Too late!Too late!"

There Beren buried his father's bones,

and piled a heap of boulder-stones,

nd sursed the name of Morgoth thrice,

but wept not,for his heart was ice.

Then over fen and field and mountain

he followed,till beside a fountain

upgushing hot from fires below

he found the slayers and his foe,

the murderous soldiers of the king.

And one there laughed,and showed a ring

he took from Barahir's dead hand.

"This ring in far Beleriand,

now mark ye,mates,"he said,"was wrought.

Its like with gold could not be bought,

for this same Barahir I slew,

this robber fool,they say,did do

a deed of service long ago

for Felagund.It may be so;

for Morgoth bade me bring it back,

and yet,methinks,he has no lack

of weightier treasure in his hoard.

Such greed befits not such a lord,

and I am minded to declare

the hand of Barahir was bare!"

et as he spake an arrow sped;

with riven heart he crumpled dead.

Thus Morgoth loves that his own foe

should in his service deal the blow

that punished the breaking of his word.

But Morgoth laughed not when he herd

that Beren like a wolf alone

sprang madly from behind stone

amid tht camp beside the well,

and seized the ring,and ere the yell

of wrath and rage had left their throat

had fled his foes.His gleaming cot

was made of rings of steel no shaft

could pierce,a web of dwarish craft;

and he was lost in rock and thorn,

for in charméd hour was Beren born;

their hungry hunting never learned

the way his ferless feet had turned.

As fearless Beren was renowned,

as man most hardy upon ground,

while Barahir yet lived and fought;

but sorrow now his soul had wrought

to dark despair,and robbed his life

of sweetness,that he longed for knife,

or shaft,or sword,to end his pain,

and dreaded only thraldom's chain.

Dnger he sought and death pursued,

and thus escaped the fate he wooed,

and deeds of brethless wonder dared

whose whispered glory widely fared,

and softly songs were sung at eve

of marvels he did once achieve

lone,beleaguered,lost at night

by misty or moon,or neath the lifht

of the broad eye of day.The woods

that northward looked with bitter feuds

he filled and death for Morgoth's folk;

his comrades were the beech and oak,

who failed him not,and many things

with fur and fell and fethered wings;

and many spirits,that in stone

in mountains old and wastes lone,

do dwell and wander,were his friends.

Yet seldom well an outlw ends,

nd Morgoth was a king more stronge

than ll the world has since in song

recorded,and his wisdom wide

slow and surely who him defied

did hem and hedge.Thus t the last

must Beren flee the forest fast

and lands he loved where lay his sire

by reeds bewailed beneath the mire.

Beneath a heap of mossy stones

now crumble those once mighty bones,

but Beren flees the friendless Northz

one autumn night,and creeps him forth;

the leaguer of his watchful foes

he passes-silently he goes.

Nor more his hidden bowstring sings,

no more his shven arrow wings,

no more his hunted head doth li

upon the heath beneath the sky.

The moon that looked amid the mist

upon the pines,the wind that hissed

among the heather and the fern

found him no more.That stars that burn

about the North with silver fire

in frosty airs,the Burning Briar

that Men did name in days long gone,

were set behind his back,and shone

o'er land and lake and darkened hill,

forsken fen and mountain rill.

His face was South from the Land of Dread,

whence only evil pathwys led,

and only the feet of men most bold

might cross the Shadowy Mountains cold.

Their northen slopes were filled with woe,

with evil and with mortal foe;

their southern faces mounted sheer,

in rocky pinncle and pier,

whose roots were woven with deceit

nd washed with waters bitter-sweet.

There magic lurked in gulf and glen,

for far away beyond the ken

of serching eyes,unless it were

from dizzy tower that pricked the air

where only eagles lived and cried,

might gey and gleaming be descried

Beleriand,Beleriand,

the borders of the faery land.