Forgotten Ground Regained
The Paths of the Dead
This poem was first published in Mallorn, the journal of the Tolkien Society, issue 51, p. 34
Tall stand the stones ‧ stark is their warning —Deep darkness, dread and doom they promise.Only one has entered ‧ this silent realmof the oathbreaking King ‧ and his cursèd kin,where terror brought trembling ‧ to the foolhardy trespasser.Still buried in blackness ‧ no barrow hides his bones,for down the long years ‧ none else dared the darkness!
But at last a great leader ‧ the heir who was longed forentered the darkness ‧ the anger daring.Desperate the danger ‧ which drove on the Dúnadan,Ships from the South ‧ sailing swiftly to war.
Wise were the words ‧ which were brought to him then,“If thou art in haste ‧ take the Paths of the Dead.”Fear filled the faces ‧ of friends and of allies;the parting was painful ‧ from bold battle friends.Wondering the words ‧ which Théoden spoke then:“These are the paths ‧ where all others may perish,alone you may dare them ‧ if it be your doom.”“True Heir of Isildur, the son of Elendil,this road I will take ‧ as my right and my task.Through dark ways, doubtless, now I will dare them.Thou, King of Rohan, ride to endless renown,fare forward, fearless, fulfilling our friendship!”Now great-hearted Gimli ‧ in the grim, grey morningfirst felt what fear was ‧ when the fell name he heard:“Will the living pass, will we not all perish?”“Nay, the road was foreseen ‧ in the words of the Seer;our need points the way — the oathbreakers will know me.Oaths of allegiance ‧ taken at Erech’s StoneThey failed, then broke, fleeing to the barren hills.Though war has been waged ‧ for long years uncounted,once again ’ere the end ‧ they will be summoned.”
The silver-starred Dúnedain ‧ depart from the Deep.Onward they swiftly passed ‧ with Elf and with Dwarf,with Elrond’s tall sons ‧ Elladan and Elrohir.They came to Dunharrow, the camp before Dimholt,their errand most urgent ‧ in the early evening.Éowyn of Rohan ‧ with eager greetingBade them be rested ‧ brought them refreshment,but horror filled, heard the way of their haste.She stared, stricken silent, in fear of the Sleepless Dead.“The Dead do not suffer ‧ the living to pass.Remain here and rest now, then ride with the Rohirrim!”“Long years led me here, and lead me to go now,I must adventure ‧ this road appointed!”
Light was the sky ‧ but the sun not yet risen when folk hid in fear ‧ till these doomed ones were gone.Desperate, the White Lady ‧ came to the leave-taking,grieving the loss ‧ of those saddled and ready,Yet longing to join them ‧ whatever their fate.“Great deeds I desire, danger and high renownWith those who go with thee, those others, who love thee!”“Daring is not enough, our duty we cannot choose.Your deeds must be done ‧ defending these humble homes,Mine ’neath the Dwimorberg, on the Paths of the Dead.”Between standing stones ‧ stark before the mountain,He led his liegemen, his kin and his friends,To the stone at the door ‧ the tall finger of doom,Right at the root in a wall of the rock.
Copyright © Susan Edwards, 2011
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