Song of Nimrodel

An Elven maid there was of old, A shining star by day: Her mantle white was hemmed with gold, Her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brow, Her eyes were deep and bright, And twilight was her gown and vow, And woven in was night. With sword in hand, she took her stand, Amidst the battle fray. Her voice rang clear, pierced through the fear, As night turned into day. Her hair it flowed, like liquid gold, A river wild and free. Her hair was long, her limbs were white, And fair she was and free; And in the wind she went as light As leaf of linden-tree. Beside the falls of Nimrodel, By water clear and cool, Her voice as falling silver fell Into the shining pool.