I wander through Lothlorien, the place I knew as home
The trees are fading as I watch; from gold they dim to grey.
I weep in bittersweet farewell to lands I called my own
For by the Sea there waits a ship, to bear me west away.

The golden sun shall show her face no more in wooded halls
Nor shall the moon turn silver all the branches reaching high.
My power now is fading as the rain of sorrow falls
I turn and leave, for shadows grim are darkening the sky.

O Lórien! No more shall light within your borders dwell;
The songs have fled, their echoes falling soft as silver rain.
I strain to hear the laughter of the kin I loved so well
But joy is gone, and never shall it enter here again.

I journey to the Gulf of Lune, beneath the sunset’s flame
In Mithlond, where the river Lhun gives passage to the Sea.
There in the dusk I stand and hear the waters call my name;
I’ll gladly drink this honeyed cup the Valar poured for me.

The Age of Men is dawning as the elves prepare to leave
We board the ship with soft farewells to those who choose to stay.
I readily accept my fate – what cause have I to grieve?
For o’er the sea of silver glass rolls back a curtain grey.

Ah, Valinor! Land of my birth, I thought I’d see no more;
Your lawns of never-fading green were where I’d often roam.
And as the first star sheds his light upon this hither shore
I look toward the West and smile, for I am coming home.