Beyond high walls and River deep,
Protected by the Mountains steep,
Well-hidden from unfriendly eyes,
A long-forgotten city lies.

A Lord and Lady there once dwelt
And still their magic can be felt
By those who breathe the fragrant air
Of gold Lindorenan the Fair.

Here lute did play, here harp had rung,
Clear Elven voices here had sung,
And though they’re gone, the music lives
Beneath the shroud of sighing leaves.

The Lady’s face with beauty shone,
Her hair like streams of gold had flown,
A light she wielded on her hand,
The power to protect her land.

The Lord was ever by her side –
His hair as silver glittered bright,
His grey-eyed glance was hard and keen,
Great wisdom shone from deep within.

Not king, nor queen, yet they did rule
‘Till summer turned to winter cruel,
When a black shadow full of fear
From dreaded Mordor crept too near.

Around their realm the darkness grew,
From the black land the East wind blew,
Yet, the defences they held fast,
Although that winter could be last.

Inside their hearts, a hope remained,
In little Shirelings it was laid,
Who braved a journey in the dark,
Into the night without a spark.

Through many trials they had gone,
Despite them all, they still went on:
The steady heart and failing hand
Had wiped old evil from the land.

But, though the Middle Earth was saved,
For Elves it turned to fading grey.
Their magic gone, they did their task
The dawn of Men became their dusk.

As legend tells, one Autumn day,
A slender ship had left the bay,
Away the keepers of the Rings it bore,
To reach the peace of the white shore.