Eärendil was a mariner
That tarried in Arvernien
He built a boat of timber felled
In Nimbrethil to journey in
Her sails he wove of silver fair
Of silver were her lanterns made
Her prow was fashioned like a swan
And light upon her banners laid

In panoply of ancient kings
In chainéd rings he armoured him
His shining shield was scored with runes
To ward all wounds and harm from him
His bow was made of dragon-horn

His arrows shorn of ebony
Of silver was his habergeon
His scabbard of chalcedony
His sword of steel was valiant
Of adamant his helmet tall
An eagle-plume upon his crest
Upon his breast an emerald

Beneath the Moon and under star
He wandered far from northern strands
Bewildered on enchanted ways
Beyond the days of mortal lands
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
Where shadow lies on frozen hills
From nether heats and burning waste
He turned in haste, and roving still

On starless waters far astray
At last he came to Night of Naught
And passed, and never sight he saw
Of shining shore nor light he sought
The winds of wrath came driving him
And blindly in the foam he fled
From west to east and errandless
Unheralded he homeward sped