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(learned in about 1962 from Tom Hall at Teton Tea parties;
-words are from the Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R.Tolkien)

(music to go here)

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 glimmering,
Tinuviel was dancing there
    To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
    And in her raiment glimmering.

Where Beren came, from mountains cold,
    And where the Elven-river rolled
And lost he wandered under leaves,
    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 lindenleaves,
Or music welling underground,
    In hidden hollows quivering.
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 lay thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
    In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon
    As on a hilltop 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 long ago they passed away
    In the forest singing sorrowless.

(from miriam berg's folksong collection)