The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide
When dawn came dim the land was lost
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel
Of old he was an Elven-king
A lord of tree and glen
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlórien
From helm to sea they saw him leap
As arrow from the string
And dive into water deep
As mew upon the wing
The wind was in his flowing hair
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan
But from the West has come no word
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore
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