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On the Bleak Morannon
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On the bleak Morannon, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Ash was falling drear and chill, a black and poisoned snow,
On the bleak Morannon, long ago.

How long could Frodo bear It, or Sam sustain?
Middle-earth would flee away if It came to reign;
Yet on the bleak Morannon, Elessar's gaze sufficed
To daunt the Black Lieutenant and his heart of ice.

Enough to see the mithril-coat, and the cloak of grey;
Silence dark descended, hope was chased away;
Enough; but Gandalf challenged, and joining battle's roar
Orcs and trolls and Easterlings from the hills did pour.

Nazgul black as vultures may have gathered there,
Yet suddenly giant Eagles thronged the air;
And as the Ring and Gollum went to the abyss,
Sauron's towering fortress fell with crash and hiss.

Minstrels sang their praises, Frodo and Sam,
Gathered on Cormallen, where Anduin swam;
Elf, Dwarf, Men and Wizard, all had done their part,
Yet what was it saved Middle-earth? Stoutest Hobbit heart.


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