A poem Hrondís learned from the Woodmen of Mirkwood. She first recited it on a gloomy autumn night to a company of elves gathered in the Haunted Inn. May it please the restless dead, who were doubtlessly listening.
* * *
There once lived a man
In these woods, I recall,
Was known in his village
As the slyest of all.
He thought himself better
Than the tales of old wives,
Had contempt for his neighbours
And their dull little lives.
When winter came down
And the woods lay in shade,
He followed his plan
That in summer he'd made.
His neighbours lit lanterns,
Each house shone with light.
They offered him candles
To keep out the night.
He laughed in their faces.
"You've all lost your mind.
Your homes shine so brightly
They're easy to find!"
"When something comes creeping
To slake its dark thirst,
My house will be hidden -
Your house will be first."
The village lay silent,
At last came the night.
And with it came something
That shied from the light.
In darkness he waited
Curled up on the floor.
He'd closed all the shutters
And bolted the door.
"No cause to be frightened!
No reason to flee!
If I cannot see it,
It cannot see me."
He heard a faint scratching
Of claws at his door.
The neighbours heard rattling,
A scream - then no more.
Remember this, children,
For I've told you true:
Though you cannot see it -
It can still see you.
