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