The Swan

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold,
And leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there come
And in the branches blew

Beyond the Sun, beyond the moon,
The foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin
There grew a golden Tree.

Beneath the stars of Ever-eve
In Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls
Of Elven Tirion

There long the golden leaves have grow
Upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas
Now fall the Elven-tears.

O Lórien! The Winter comes,
The bare and leafless day.
The leaves are falling in the stream.
The River flows away.

O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt
Upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined
The golden elanor.

But if of ships I now should sing.
What ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back
Across so wide a sea?