In the white downs above Michel Delving
The road finds a circle of pines.
There I may rest,
And look to the West
As I wonder of elder days.
In Lindon,they say, dwell the fair folk,
Over the high mountains blue.
They speak there in song
Of days long gone,
In the fair but darkened land of the ones of old.
Now Eastward I look, and I find there
The hills of my home a-rolling away.
The land calls to me
As the elves to the sea
And long here my folk shall remain.
Though the ancient Western lands are sunken,
And to the the East a darkness brews,
Down below me is my home
Far from dark and ocean's foam
And I hope that here for-ever shall this peace go on.
