Each mithril loop unending, as the thread
And needle rise and pierce and fall in calm
Unchanging rhythm. Time flows along its way,
As it had ever done through all my days;
Until you walked towards me, radiant,
With flowers in your hand like golden rain;
Then, in an instant, time was changed - I glimpsed
The life of Men.
And as I sew, the ageless images arise;
(These crystal stars do not outshine your eyes,
The branches of this tree are not more lithesome
Than your limbs; its leaves more healing than
Your hands). But in these silver strands against
The black, I see the hoarfrost in your hair.
Time touches you, stays graven in your face,
Yet freely, gracefully, you stride to meet
The doom of Men.
My love, my thoughts go with you on your way;
Could I but glimpse again joy’s mortal fire,
Feel it fleeting through these twilight hours!
Far will I range with you in hope to be
At last awakened by dawn’s golden shower.
Brightly shall the daystar rise for me,
Ignite that moment of intensity,
When all life’s essence is distilled, eternally
The gift of Men.