View From Meneltarma (Poem)

Before the surging seas were bent
and Ulmo’s fury fully spent
and Númenor in all its pride
to doom was sent
sweet Elvenhome could still be seen
its peaks aglow in silver sheen
by Kingly eyes both clear and keen
from the peak of Meneltarma.

Oh Númenor! Oh Númenor!
Precious gift of Valinor.
The creeping fear of mortal tide
estranged your folk from wisdom’s guide
now lost for evermore.

The faithful trod with reverent step
the road which round the mountain swept
to reach the view that far and wide
their senses wrapped.
Overhead the eagles soared
while on the summit stillness roared
and none could voice a single word
On the peak of Meneltarma.

Oh Númenor! Oh Númenor!
Precious gift of Valinor.
The creeping fear of mortal tide
estranged your folk from wisdom’s guide
now lost for evermore.

The land is lost beneath the wave
from tower tall to quiet nave.
Into the depths did each one slide
none were saved.
Elendil and his faithful few
with nine ships fled the ocean’s spew
into their sails the torrents blew
from the isle of Meneltarma.

Oh Númenor! Oh Númenor!
Precious gift of Valinor.
The creeping fear of mortal tide
estranged your folk from wisdom’s guide
now lost for evermore.

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