Thafar-gathol

Transcribed from:   Copy of Lost Lore: Ered Mithrin

Thafar-gathol

'The harps sing loud, the fires burn low

'Our thoughts now stray to long ago

'When in the north and far away

'The anvils rang ‘neath Mountains Grey

'In olden days, when all was sundered

'Our sires left strongholds wrecked and plundered

'And hewed new homes far under stone

'To carve a kingdom of their own

'With iron fists and hammers strong

'They ruled a realm of storied song

'The glitt'ring mines and glimm'ring hall

'Of peerless, proud Thafar-gathol

'O reaches rich with gem and ore!

'Resplendent runes writ on the door!

'O kingly crown of ruby wrought!

'The forge-fires flaming ever-hot!

'Beryl, bloodstone, sapphire, sard,

'Darkest onyx, diamond hard

'Gold and garnet filled their hoards

'And shone upon their shimm'ring swords

'Yet tales they tell of greater treasure

'Matchless wealth past mind and measure

'Mighty mithril, blazing bright

'That drenched the darkened depths with light

'The harps grow still, the embers dim

'Our ballads glad grow black and grim

'For in the north and far away

'Our days drew short ‘neath Mountains Grey

'Now heed and hearken as I speak

'Of times that turned from blithe to bleak

'Fast and fearful came the fall

'Of fair, forlorn Thafar-gathol