Where will their way come to an end?
When freezing in the ice and snow
Or dying in a desert land?
They flow on in ceaseless streaming
Since the beginning of the times
By sandy banks, where maids are swimming
And quiet laugh in air flies.
Where willows bent above the water,
Where reed does whisper with the wind,
Where flocks of fearful birds are floating
In pools as clear as a spring.
O Seven Rivers of Ossiriand!
In a placid morning's bluish light
You keep on running, nearer and nearer
To surging waves of a noisy tide.
Straight to the Sea, which brings the visions
Of other times and other things,
A moan of pain… But Darkness weakens
Before this pure and joyful brink.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.