Of Fingolfin and Morgoth (III)

Fingolfin like a shooting light

beneath a cloud, a stab of white,

sprang then aside, and Ringil drew

like ice that gleameth cold and blue,

his sword devised of elvish skill

to pierce the flesh with deadly chill.

With seven wounds it rent his foe,

and seven mighty cries of woe

rang in the mountains, and the earth quook,

and Angband's trembling armies shook.

Yet Orcs would after laughing tell

of the duel at the gates of hell;

though elvish song thereof was made

ere this but one—when sad was laid

the mighty king in barrow high,

and Thorndor, Eagle of the sky,

the dreadful tidings brought and told

to mourning Elfinesse of old.

(lines 3,574 to 3,591)

The Geste of Beren and Lúthien

J.R.R. Tolkien

[Image: Ted Nasmith]