TURAMBAR'S HEART
When faxéd stars did pierce the night,
went Eöl then with cunning sight,
and through the shadows urged his horse
to trace a comet's blazing course.
He with that starry ore returned,
and then devised, through secrets learned,
of galvorn black an evil thorn:
fell Anglachel and mate were born.
But forging in that lonesome place,
did he the sword with malice lace,
Turambar's blade which many men
did slay, both cruel and innocent?
Or was it but the wicked doom
that Morgoth wrought, the cloud of gloom,
which turned the hand of Túrin bold
to slaughter?
Were they manifold,
the causes of his rueful fate?
For Men oft seem to bitter hate
the evil hailing from without,
neglecting that which Men should doubt:
the evil that in hearts does lurk
and silent does its wicked work.
Did Túrin after evil deed
yet trust that which his mind did rede—
or dread the evil that transpired
perhaps his ruthless heart desired?
