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Antique Lyrics of Arda

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Walküre:
The First Dawn


Gaze at the East, Heir of Men,
Thou wilt see the White Rider in light fashioned,
And ill clouds shall break and undone be,
As he announceth his coming, bringing the winds and breezes of the West with him, to determine salvation and triumph in brightness and glory which in no case vanisheth.

Walküre:
Ruins, only this


What remains of Arnor, splendid and majestic domain within its solid defence? What has been of its grand army that the North ever-secure used to make?

Ruins, only this, silent remnants and empty spoils of war and immense loss for Men, which are in truth and plain sincerity testimony of what discord may bring, when a malicious intelligence operates in the dark, disguised and in elusiveness versed.

Walküre:
Aye, the grandness of thy kind


Heir to the throne of Men, these sacred borders at the head of thy companions thou shalt soon leave and pass, but may this parting of ours be of positive counsel for thee and the quest awaiting on the other side, for thou hast a choice to make, and such election the lives of many is to change and shape, in grim moments when mankind the coming of a hero invoketh, to free all from the binding of fear and war.

It is thus up to thee sole, to rise above all thy forefathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of thy glorious kin.

Thou holdest much faith in the heart, as I may see, and the aid of thy kindred fellows shall never falter nor get dim, and I thus bless thee and the mission ye have been appointed to, because ye are the last hope for these free shires under the Sun and the Moon, lest Arda grow old while covered in obscurity and under the rule of a demon bent.

Walküre:
The Old Wood


They tell stories of spirits of fair visage that tread the paths that lie yonder,
Over our sunny Shire, and they have been beheld wandering and heading in silence towards unknown routes, along the forest old and quiet,
They could be fine and ever-living Elves, for they are leaving in large number these shores,
When they get past the White Towers that at the broad horizon gaze, and then they are seen embarking on grey ships and the very end of the sea passing.

Walküre:
Thou art sick and ever-cursed


Morgoth, thou art sick and ever-cursed,
Alongside thy uncanny beasts which in the deepest dungeons of thy caves thou hast bred,
Yet the proud and gallant Noldo by terror never shall be conquered, being his heart a mighty fortress and inviolable gate,
And our buoyancy the chains of doubt and fear shall ultimately undo, as no other snare or trick of thine we are to dread.

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