The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold,
And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes,
For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,
With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold:
I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast,
And hear the narrow graves calling my child and me,
Desolate wind that cry over the wandering sea;
Desolate wind that hover in the flaming West;
Desolate wind that beats the doors of Heaven, and beat
The doors of Hell and blow there many a whimpering ghost;
O heart that winds have shaken, the unappeasable host
Is comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet.
Mother Mary's feet...
1 | Nimrodel |
2 | Legolas's Song |
3 | The Withering Of The Boughs |
4 | Galadriel's Song |
5 | Running To Paradise |
6 | Beren's Song |
7 | The Lullaby |
8 | Дуб, Терновник и Ясень |
9 | The Host Of The Air |
10 | September 1913 |