[Eurielle]
We heard of the horns in the hills ringing
The swords shining in the South-kingdom
Steeds went striding to the Stoningland
As wind in the morning. War was kindled
[Clamavi De Profundis]
There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty
To his golden halls and green pastures
In the Northern fields never returning
High lord of the host
Harding and Guthláf
Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold
Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred
Fought and fell there in a far country:
In the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie
With their league-fellows, lords of Gondor
[Eurielle]
Nеither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by thе sea
Nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales
E'er, to Arnach, to his own country
Returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen
Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters
[Clamavi De Profundis]
Meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows
Death in the morning and at day's ending
Lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep
Under grass in Gondor by the Great River
Grey now as tears, gleaming silver
Red then it rolled, roaring water:
Foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;
As beacons mountains burned at evening;
Red fell the dew in Rammas Echor
We heard of the horns in the hills ringing
The swords shining in the South-kingdom
Steeds went striding to the Stoningland
As wind in the morning. War was kindled
[Clamavi De Profundis]
There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty
To his golden halls and green pastures
In the Northern fields never returning
High lord of the host
Harding and Guthláf
Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold
Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred
Fought and fell there in a far country:
In the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie
With their league-fellows, lords of Gondor
[Eurielle]
Nеither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by thе sea
Nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales
E'er, to Arnach, to his own country
Returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen
Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters
[Clamavi De Profundis]
Meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows
Death in the morning and at day's ending
Lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep
Under grass in Gondor by the Great River
Grey now as tears, gleaming silver
Red then it rolled, roaring water:
Foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;
As beacons mountains burned at evening;
Red fell the dew in Rammas Echor
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