The leaves were long, the grass was green,

The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,

And in the glade a light was seen

Of stars in shadow shimmering.

Tinuviel was dancing there

To music of a pipe unseen,

And light of stars was in her hair,

And in her raiment glimmering.



There Beren came from mountains cold,

And lost he wandered under leaves,

And where the Elven-river rolled

He walked alone and sorrowing.

He peered between the hemlock-leaves

And saw in wonder flowers of gold

Upon her mantle and her sleeves,

And her hair like shadow following.



Enchantment healed his weary feet

That over hills were doomed to roam;

And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,

And grasped at moonbeams glistening.

Through woven woods in Elvenhome

She lightly fled on dancing feet,

And left him lonely still to roam

In the silent forest listening.



He heard there oft the flying sound

Of feet as light as linden-leaves,

Or music welling underground,

In hidden hollows quavering.

Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,

And one by one with sighing sound

Whispering fell the beechen leaves

In the wintry woodland wavering.



He sought her ever, wandering far

Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,

By light of moon and ray of star

In frosty heavens shivering.

Her mantle glinted in the moon,

As on a hill-top high and far

She danced, and at her feet was strewn

A mist of silver quivering.



When winter passed, she came again,

And her song released the sudden spring,

Like rising lark, and falling rain,

And melting water-bubbling.

He saw the elven-flowers spring

About her feet, and healed again

He longed by her to dance and sing

Upon the grass untroubling.



Again she fled, but swift he came,

Tinuviel! Tinuviel!

He called her by her elvish name;

And there she halted listening.

One moment stood she, and a spell,

His voice laid on her: Beren came,

And doom fell on Tinuviel

That in his arms lay glistening.



As Beren looked into her eyes

Within the shadows of her hair,

The trembling starlight of the skies

He saw there mirrored shimmering.

Tinuviel the elven-fair

Immortal maiden elven-wise,

About him cast her shadowy hair

And arms like silver glimmering.



Long was the way that fate them bore

O'er stony mountains cold and grey

Through halls of iron and darkling door

And woods of nightshade morrowless.

The Sundering Seas between them lay,

And yet at last they met once more,

And log ago they passed away

In the forest singing sorrowless.

Under a Celtic Moon Night
Warm breeze blowing in the spring
Two great armies cease their fight
In grassy fields, insects sing.

I walked alone with my thoughts
Looked for peace and solitude
Dreaming of love that was not;
So I calmed my warriors mood.

A sound: Enchanted music
Drifted soft, calling my soul
Older than any Gaelic,
Those words took such a heavy toll.

From the wood something appeared
Like a ghost from ages past
Though tried in battle, I feared
My weapons from me I cast.

A girl clad in moon's soft glow
With grace, like Beren's fair bride
Beauty only elves could know
Tears, like pure silver she cried.

Like two stars her eyes did shine
Hair, as black as the night sky,
I could only wish her mine.
Deep sadness was in her sigh.

She stood pleading with heaven
To rejoin her with her love;
A soldier he once had been,
Met his fate, was now above.

This perfect scene did I watch,
When like a dream was she gone.
Left, just stillness with no match
And that night went ever on.

Now oft' when the night is long
And darkest before light,
Still can I hear her sad song
Under a Celtic Moon Night.